Page:Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics.djvu/104

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I wish my grave were growing green, A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, And I in Helen’s arms lying, On fair Kirconnell lea.
I wish I were where Helen liesNight and day on me she cries; And I am weary of the skies, Since my Love died for me. Anon.


cviii

THE TWA CORBIES

As I was walking all alaneI heard twa corbies making a mane;The tane unto the t’other say,‘Where sall we gang and dine today?’
‘—In behint 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 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 mak our dinner sweet.
‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane,And I’ll pick out his bonny blue een: Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare.
‘Mony a one for him makes mane, But nane sall ken where he is gane;O’er his white banes. when they arc bare. The wind sall blaw for evermair.’ Anon.
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