A S I was walking all alane

I heard twa corbies making a mane:

The tane unto the tither did say,

'Whar sall we gang and dine the day?'

'—In behint yon auld fail dyke 5

I wot there lies a new-slain knight;

And naebody kens that he lies there

But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.

'His hound is to the hunting gane,

His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 10

His lady 's ta'en anither mate,

So we may mak our dinner sweet.

'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,

And I'll pike out his bonny blue e'en:

Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair 15

We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

'Mony a one for him maks mane,

But nane sall ken whar he is gane:

O'er his white banes, when they are bare,