The Twa Corbies

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a maen:
The tane unto the t'ither did say,
"Whaur shall we gang and dine the day?"

"O doun beside 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,
Sae we may mak' our dinner sweet.

"O we'll sit on his white hause bane,
And I'll pyke out his bonny blue e'en;
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it blaws bare.

"Mony a ane for him makes maen,
But nane shall ken whaur he is gane.
Over his banes when they are bare,
The wind shall blaw for evermair."

George Wharton Edwards

George Wharton Edwards was an American impressionist painter, illustrator, and author, born on March 6, 1859, in Fair Haven, Connecticut. He became well known for his paintings of European landscapes and historical scenes. Besides his painting career, Edwards illustrated books and created art for various publications. His storytelling ability extended into his works as an author, enhancing his influence in the art and literary communities. Edwards passed away on January 18, 1950.

George Wharton Edwards

The Banks o' Yarrow

George Wharton Edwards, Simple Poetry

The Battle of Otterburn

George Wharton Edwards, Simple Poetry

Helen Of Kirkconnell

George Wharton Edwards, Simple Poetry

Barbara Allen's Cruelty

George Wharton Edwards, Simple Poetry

English

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The Three Ravens And The Twa Corbies

The Texts of these two variations on the same theme are taken from T. Ravenscroft's Melismata, 1611, and Scott's Minstrelsy, 1803, respectively. There are several other versions of the Scots ballad, while Motherwell prints The Three Ravens, changing only the burden.

Chappell (Popular Music of the Olden Time) says of the English version that he has been 'favored with a variety of copies of it, written down from memory; and all differing in some respects, both as to words and tune, but with sufficient resemblance to prove a similar origin.' Consciously or not, the ballad, as set by him to its traditional tune, is to be sung without the threefold repetition shown by Ravenscroft, thus compressing two verses of the ballad into each repetition of the tune, and halving the length of the song.

Frank Sidgwick

Brithers.

'Twas up at the tree near the heid o' the glen
I keppit a tinkler chiel,
The cauld wind whistled his auld duds through,
He was waesomely doon at the heel;
But he made me free o' his company,
For he kent that I wished him weel.

He lookit me fairly 'tween the een,
He cam' o' an auncient clan;
He gae me gude-day in a freendly way,
While he spak me man to man,
Though my gibbles were a' for the human frame
An' his for kettle an' pan.

"Ye're oot i' the warst that the weather can dae,
Ye're free o' the road, like me,
I palmer aboot for kettles to cloot,
Wi' an orra-like weird to dree;
An' oor job's to men' whativer'll men',
Wi' luck to fix oor fee!

Brithers baith o' the auld high road-
Yet the Deil hae General Wade
For learnin's ...

David Rorie

The Banks o' Yarrow

Late at e'en, drinking the wine,
And ere they paid the lawing,
They set a combat them between,
To fight it in the dawing.

"What though ye be my sister's lord,
We'll cross our swords to-morrow."
"What though my wife your sister be,
I'll meet ye then on Yarrow."

"O stay at hame, my ain gude lord!
O stay, my ain dear marrow!
My cruel brither will you betray
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow."

"O fare ye weel, my lady dear!
And put aside your sorrow;
For if I gae, I'll sune return
Frae the bonny banks o' Yarrow."

She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair,
As oft she'd done before, O;
She belted him wi' his gude brand,
And he's awa' to Yarrow.

When he gaed up the Tennies bank,
As he gaed mony a morrow,
Nine arm...

George Wharton Edwards

A Song Of Hope

I dinna ken what's come ower me!
    There's a how whaur ance was a hert!
I never luik oot afore me,
    An' a cry winna gar me stert;
There's naething nae mair to come ower me,
    Blaw the win' frae ony airt!

For i' yon kirkyard there's a hillock,
    A hert whaur ance was a how;
An' o' joy there's no left a mealock--
    Deid aiss whaur ance was a low!
For i' yon kirkyard, i' the hillock,
    Lies a seed 'at winna grow.

It's my hert 'at hauds up the wee hillie--
    That's hoo there's a how i' my breist;
It's awa doon there wi' my Willie--
    Gaed wi' him whan he was releast;
It's doon i' the green-grown hillie,
    But I s' be efter it neist!

Come awa, nicht an' mornin,
    Come ooks, years, a' Time's clan:
Ye're welc...

George MacDonald

Waly, Waly, Love be Bonny

O waly, waly up the bank,
And waly, waly down the brae,
And waly, waly yon burn side,
Where I and my love were wont to gae.
I leant my back unto an aik,
I thought it was a trusty tree;
But first it bow'd, and syne it brak,
Sae my true love did lichtly me.

O waly, waly, but gin love be bonny,
A little time while it is new;
But when its auld, it waxeth cauld,
And fades awa' like morning dew.
O wherfore shuld I busk my head?
Or wherfore shuld I kame my hair?
For my true love has me forsook,
And says he'll never loe me mair.

Now Arthur-Seat sall be my bed,
The sheets shall neir be prest by me:
Saint Anton's well sall be my drink,
Since my true love has forsaken me.
Marti'mas wind, when wilt thou blaw,
And shake the green leaves...

George Wharton Edwards

The Twa Baubees.

Stately, lang-robit, an' steppin at ease,
    The rich men gaed up the temple ha';
Hasty, an' grippin her twa baubees,
The widow cam efter, booit an' sma'.

Their goud rang lood as it fell, an' lay
    Yallow an' glintin, bonnie an' braw;
But the fowk roun the Maister h'ard him say
    The puir body's baubees was mair nor it a'.

George MacDonald