Twee Corbies

As aw wes waakin aal alane,

Aa heard twee corbies myekin a mane; The tae te the towther did say,

Where sall we gan an dine the-day?'

In ahint yon aad fail dyke,

Aa wot there lies a new slain knight;

An neebody kens that he lies there,

But his haak, his hund, an lady fair.

His hund is te the huntin gyen,

His haak te fetch the wul-fool hyem,

His lady's taen anither mate,

Se we mun myek wor dinner sweet.

Ye'll sit atoppa his wheet haas-byen,

An aa'll pike oot his bonny blee een;

Wi yen lock o his gowlden hair,

We'll, theek wor nest whan it graas bare.

Monny a yen for him myeks mane,

But nyen sall ken where he is gane;

Ower his wheet byens, whan thae'r bare,

The wund sall blaw for ivvermair.'