  Fair of face, full of pride, Sit ye down by a dead man's side. Ye sang songs a' the day: Sit down at night in the red worm's way. Proud ye were a' day long: Ye'll be but lean at evensong. Ye had gowd kells on your hair: Nae man kens what ye were. Ye set scorn by the silken stuff: Now the grave is clean enough. Ye set scorn by the rubis ring: Now the worm is a saft sweet thing. Fine gold and blithe fair face, Ye are come to a grimly place. Gold hair and glad grey een, Nae man kens if ye have been. |
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