She blooded him in the vein of the arm, And locked him up in the room; There did he bleed all the live-long day, Until the next day at noon. He then bethought him of a casement door, Thinking for to begone; He was so weak he could not leap, Nor he could not get down. He then bethought him of his bugle-horn, Which hung low down to his knee, He set his horn unto his mouth, And blew out weak blasts three. Then Little John, when hearing him, As he sat under the tree, "I fear my master is near dead, He blows so wearily." Then Little John to Fair Kirkley is gone, As fast as he can dree; But when he came to Kirkley-hall, He broke locks two or three; Until he came bold Robin to, Then he fell on his knee; "A boon, a boon," cries Little John, "Master, I beg of thee." "What is that boon," quoth Robin Hood, "Little John, thou begst of me?" "It is to burn fair Kirkley-hall, And all their nunnery." "Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood, "That boon I'll not grant thee; I never hurt woman in all my life, Nor man in woman's company. "I never hurt fair maid in all my time, Nor at my end shall it be; But give me my bent bow in my hand, And a broad arrow I'll let flee; And where this arrow is taken up, There shall my grave digged be. "Lay me a green sod under my head, And another under my feet; And lay my bent bow by my side, Which was my music sweet; And make my grave of gravel and green, Which is most right and meet. "Let me have length and breadth enough, With a green sod under my head; That they may say when I am dead, Here lies bold Robin Hood." These words they readily promised him, Which did bold Robin please; And there they buried bold Robin Hood, Near to the fair Kirkleys. 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." Waly, Waly, Love be Bonny A SCOTTISH SONG