Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (1863–1944). The Oxford Book of Ballads. 1910.

68. The Three Ravens

THERE were three ravens sat on a tree,

They were as black as they might be.

The one of them said to his make,

‘Where shall we our breakfast take?’

III

‘Down in yonder greenè field

There lies a knight slain under his shield;

‘His hounds they lie down at his feet.

So well do they their master keep;

‘His hawks they flie so eagerly,

There’s no fowl dare come him nigh.

‘Down there comes a fallow doe

As great with young as she might goe.

VII

‘She lift up his bloudy head

And kist his wounds that were so red.

VIII

‘She gat him up upon her back

And carried him to earthen lake.

‘She buried him before the prime,

She was dead herself ere evensong time.

‘God send every gentleman

Such hounds, such hawks, and such a leman!’

make] mate.