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Stories of the Scottish Border

by William Platt

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The Three Ravens

There were three ravens sat on a tre,
They were as black as they might be:

The one of them said to his mate,
“Where shall we our breakfast take?”—

“Downe in yonder greene field,
There lies a knight slain under his shield;

“His hounds they lie downe at his feete,
So well they their master keepe;

“His hawkes they flie so eagerlie,
There’s no fowle dare come him nie.

“Down there comes a fallow doe,
As great with yong as she might goe.

“She lift up his bloudy hed,
And kist his wounds that were so red.

“She got him up upon her backe,
And carried him to earthen lake.

“She buried him before the prime,
She was dead her selfe ere even song time.

“God send every gentleman,
Such hawkes, such houndes, and such a leman.”

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