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    The Twa Corbies

    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 to-day?'

    '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 pike 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;
    Oer his white banes, when they we bare,
    The wind sall blaw for evermair.'

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