As dawn's first rays cross the green field
They shine in open eyes lying still
From the boughs of the oak tree, three ravens wait
Over his cold bones lying as they are

The wind will moan forevermore
They'll perch on his backbone
Beneath the morning sun
Peck out his eyes one by one

His hounds they lie at his feet
So well they will their master keep
His hawks they circle the air all through the day
No raven would dare come near all through the day

She sits quiet and still by his side
Gently closes her lover's eyes
She buried him before his prime
Was dead herself before even song time

God grant each man his rightful share
Such hawks, such hounds, such ladies fair