Twa Corbies - Trad As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane; The tane unto the t’other say, ‘Where sall we gang and dine the day?’ ‘In behind yon auld fail dyke, 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, His lady’s ta’en another mate, So we may make our dinner sweet. ‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane, And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een; Wi ae lock o his gowden hair, We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare. ‘Mony an ane for him makes mane, But nane sall ken whare he is gane; Oer his white banes, when they are bare, The wind sall blaw for evermair.