"The Twa Corbies", classic or dud?

Corbies, presumably carrion crows or some such, right?

Lady Margaret she sits in her bower sewing
Ma-ba and the lilly ba
When she saw the knight with his horn a-blowing
On the very first morning of May

Oh I wish that I had that horn I hear blowing
Ma-ba and the lilly ba
And that young knight to sleep here on my breast
On the very first morning of May

Now the Lady she had these words scarce spoke
Ma-ba and the lilly ba
When in at her window the knight come a jumping
On the very first morning of May

Oh strange it is, oh strange young woman
Ma-ba and the lilly ba
I can scarce blow my horn since I hear you a-calling
On the very first morning of May

Go fetch you gold from your father's table
Deliver it unto me
And the two fastest horses in your father's stable
Where there sat thirty and three

So he’s mounted him on the black black horse
And she’s rode the dapple grey
And they rode til they came to the broad sea-shore
Just three hours before it was day

Lie down, lie down off your horse he says
And deliver it up to me
For it’s six pretty maids I have drowned here
And the seventh one you shall be

Take off, take off all your clothes he cried
And deliver them unto me
For they are too fine and costly robes
For to rot in the salt salt sea

Lie down, lie down off your horse she cried
And turn your back unto me
For it’s not fitting that any gentleman
A naked lady should see

So he’s lighted him down off his horse so high
And he’s turned his back unto she
And she’s catched him around the middle so small
And she’s tumbled him all down in the sea

Sometimes he sank, sometimes he swam
And it’s ma-ba and the lilly ba
Oh help, oh help me pretty mistress
Or drowned I shall be

Lie there lie there oh you false young man
Lie there instead of me
For it’s six pretty maids you have drowned here
And the seventh one has drowned thee

So she’s mounted her on the black black horse
And she’s led the dapple grey
And she rode til she came to her father’s house
An hour before it was day

A parrot sitting up at her window side
It’s ma-ba and the lilly ba
Oh where have you been my pretty mistress
So long before it is day

Don’t you prittle don’t you prattle my pretty polly
Don’t you tell the tales on me
And your cage shall be made of the best glittering gold
And your perch of the best ivory

But her father sitting up at his window side
On hearing the parrot he did say
Oh what is the matter my pretty polly
That you cry so long before the day?

Oh there come a cat to my window side
And it’s ma-ba and the lilly ba
And I was a calling my pretty mistress
Just to frighten that pussy cat away

One of the things about "The Twa Corbies" is that the lyrics don't actually say what happened to the dead knight. You can assume that the knight was murdered, perhaps by his wife, or the other "mate" referred to, but equally, possibly not! Maybe he died in some accident, and his wife took "another mate" in the aftermath, the "none shall know where he is gone" line kind of suggests this. The only facts the lyrics give are:

there is a dead man whose body lies behind a dyke
his wife has taken another mate
his dog and hawk have fucked off
he is missed, but his body is never found
his body is eaten by crows.

It's a slight, sketchy glimpse of a horrible story.

Chorus:
At the well below the valley oh
Green grows the lily oh
Right among the bushes oh

A gentleman was passing by
He asked for a drink as he got dry

My cup is full up to the brim
If I were to stoop I might fall in

If your true lover was passing by
You'd fill him a drink as he got dry

She swore by grass, she swore by corn
That her true love had never been born

He said, Young maid you're swearing wrong
For six young children you had born

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell to me the father of them

There's two of them by your Uncle Dan
There's two of them by your Uncle Dan

Another two by your brother John
Another two by your brother John

Another two by your father dear
Another two by your father dear

If you be a man of noble 'steem
You'll tell me what did happen to them

There's two buried 'neath the stable door
There's two buried 'neath the stable door

Another two 'neath the kitchen door
Another two 'neath the kitchen door

Another two buried beneath the wall
Another two buried beneath the wall

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell me what will happen myself

You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell

You'll be seven more burning in hell
You'll be seven more burning in hell

I'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
But the lord above may save my soul
From burning in hell

I'm dissapointed there's no "taken out his/her little pen knife"/"twined of his/her life" couplet. That's my favorite recurring phrase in ballads.

Lucy Wan is another bleak and brutal favourite:

Fair Lucy she sits in her father's garden
Weeping and making moan
When by there come her brother dear
What ails thee Lucy Wan?

I ail, I ail, dear brother she cried
And I'll tell you the reason why
For there is a child between my two sides
It's by you dear brother and I

He's taken out his long broad-sword
That hung low down by his knee
And he's cut off fair Lucy Wan's head
And her fair body in three

And out and there come her thick heart's blood
And out and there come the thin
And he's away to his mother's house
What ails thee Geordie Wan?

Oh what's that blood on the white of your sword
My son come tell to me
Oh that is the blood of my greyhound
He would not run for me

Oh your greyhound's blood was never so clear
My son come tell to me
Oh that was the blood of my grey mare
She would not ride for me

Oh your grey mare's blood was ne'er so red
My son come tell to me
Oh that's not the blood of my grey mare
It's the blood of my sister Lucy

Oh what will you do when your father comes to know
My son come tell to me
Oh I will set forth in a bottomless boat
And I will sail the sea

And when will you come back again
My son come tell to me
When the sun and the moon dance on yonder hill
And that may never be

The Well below the valley, merry song about inscest and abortion

At the well below the valley oh
Green grows the lily oh
Right among the bushes oh

A gentleman was passing by
He asked for a drink as he got dry

My cup is full up to the brim
If I were to stoop I might fall in

If your true lover was passing by
You'd fill him a drink as he got dry

She swore by grass, she swore by corn
That her true love had never been born

He said, Young maid you're swearing wrong
For six young children you had born

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell to me the father of them

There's two of them by your Uncle Dan
There's two of them by your Uncle Dan

Another two by your brother John
Another two by your brother John

Another two by your father dear
Another two by your father dear

If you be a man of noble 'steem
You'll tell me what did happen to them

There's two buried 'neath the stable door
There's two buried 'neath the stable door

Another two 'neath the kitchen door
Another two 'neath the kitchen door

Another two buried beneath the wall
Another two buried beneath the wall

If you be a man of noble fame
You'll tell me what will happen myself

You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
You'll be seven years a-ringing the bell

You'll be seven more burning in hell
You'll be seven more burning in hell

I'll be seven years a-ringing the bell
But the lord above may save my soul
From burning in hell

An Long Lankin, a song which most accounts seem to say is about a mason but I 'm inclined to think Long Lankin is an Elf or a Faerie

Said my lord to my lady, as he rode away:
"Beware of Long Lankin that lives in the hay."
"Let the doors be all bolted and the windows all pinned,
And leave not a hole for a mouse to creep in."

So he kissed his fair lady and he rode away,
And he was in fair London before the break of day.
The doors were all bolted and the windows all pinned,
Except one little window where Long Lankin crept in.

"Where's the lord of this house?" Said Long Lankin,
"He's away in fair London." said the false nurse to him.
"Where's the little heir of this house ?" said Long Lankin.
"He's asleep in his cradle," said the false nurse to him.

"We'll prick him, we'll prick him all over with a pin,
And that'll make my lady to come down to him.'
So he pricked him, he pricked him all over with a pin,
And the nurse held the basin for the blood to flow in.

"O nurse, how you slumber. O nurse, how you sleep.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to weep."
"O nurse, how you slumber, O nurse how you snore.
You leave my little son Johnson to cry and to roar."

"I've tried him with an apple, I've tried him with a pear.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your chair."
"I've tried him with milk and I've tried him with pap.
Come down, my fair lady, and rock him in your lap."

"How durst I go down in the dead of the night
Where there's no fire a-kindled and no candle alight ?"
"You have three silver mantles as bright as the sun.
Come down, my fair lady, all by the light of one."

My lady came down, she was thinking no harm
Long Lankin stood ready to catch her in his arm.
Here's blood in the kitchen. Here's blood in the hall
Here's blood in the parlour where my lady did fall.

Her maiden looked out from the turret so high
And she saw her master from London riding by.
"O master, O master, don't lay the blame on me
'Twas the false nurse and Lankin that killed your lady."

Long Lankin was hung on a gibbet so high
And the false nurse was burnt in a fire close by.

It's a pretty famous song. That song "Oxford Girl" on "Love, Death and the Lady" always puts a shiver up my spine, it's so matter-of-fact and the violence seems so pointless.