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The Thrie Ravens

Have you ever heard of a talking raven? No? Well here are three. They are having a discussion about a squire whose body lies dead in a field.

The squire's lover finds his body and lies down beside him where she dies in her grief, her unborn child dying with her.

They are both buried. A fir tree grows from his grave and a lily from her's and the plants eventually intertwine, sealing their love for each other in death as well as life.

Thrie ravens sat upon a tree
Hey doun hey derrie day
Thrie ravens sat upon a trie
Hey down
Thrie ravens sat upon a trie
And they were black as black could be
And they sing lay doo-an la doo-an day

The middlemaist ane said to its mate
O quher'll we our dinner get

O doun into yon green grass field
Thare lies a Squire baith killed and dead

His horse was standing by his side
An thought he soud get on and ride

His hounds war standing by his feet
An lick't his sairs they war so deep

There cam a lady fu o woe
As big wi child as she could go

She streach't hersel doun by his side
An for the luve o him she died

He was burried in Sanct Mary's kirk
An she was burried in Sanct Mary's quier

Out o his grave thare grew a fir
And out o hers a lily fair

They grew till they grew to the kirk top
And there they cuist a true love knot

O dinna ye think but their love was true
When out of their graves sic flowers do grow.

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