There were three ravens (Thomas Ravenscroft)

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  • CPDL #02766:  Network.png
Editors: Greg Lindahl and Bernard Roth (submitted 2001-06-06).   Score information: Letter, 2 pages, 169 kB   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes:

General Information

Title: There were Three Ravens
Composer: Thomas Ravenscroft

Number of voices: 4vv   Voicing: 4 equal voices

Genre: Secular, Canon

Language: English
Instruments: a cappella
Published: Melismata (1611)

Description: One voice only, #20 from 'Melismata'

External websites:

Original text and translation

English.png English text

There were three ravens sat on a tree,
Down a down hey down hey down.
And they were as black as they might be,
With a down.
Then one of them said to his mate:
"Where shall we our breakfast take?"
With a down derry derry derry down down.

Down in yonder greenfield,
Down a down hey down hey down.
There lies a knight slain under his shield;
With a down.
His hounds they lie down at his feet,
So well they can their master keep.
With a down derry derry derry down down.

His hawks they fly so eagerly,
Down a down hey down hey down.
There is no fowl dare come him nigh
With a down.
But down there comes a fallow doe,
As great with young as she might go.
With a down derry derry derry down down.

O she lifts up his bloody head,
Down a down hey down hey down.
And kissed his wounds that were so red.
With a down.
She got him up upon her back
And carried him to an earthen lake.
With a down derry derry derry down down.

She buried him before the prime,
Down a down hey down hey down.
She was dead herself ere evensong time.
With a down.
God send every gentleman
Such hounds, such hawks and such a leman.
With a down derry derry derry down down.


German.png German translation Übersetzung: Peter Rottländer

Drei Raben saßen auf einem Baum
sie waren so schwarz wie sie nur sein konnten.
Einer sagte zu seinen Gefährten:
Wo sollen wir unser Frühstück holen?

Drunten auf jenem grünen Feld
liegt ein Ritter erschlagen unter seinem Schild.
Seine Hunde liegen zu seinen Füßen
und bewachen ihren Herrn gut.

Seine Falken fliegen eifrig umher,
so daß kein Vogel zu nahen wagt.
Es kommt eine Hirschkuh vorbei
sie ist so trächtig wie es nur eben geht.

Sie hob sein blutiges Haupt
und küßte in auf seine Wunden so rot.
Sie nahm ihn auf ihren Rücken
und trug ihn zu einer Grube in der Erde.

Sie begrub ihn vor dem Morgenrot
und vor dem Abend war sie selbst tot.
Gott sende jedem Gentleman
solche Falken, solche Hunde und solch eine Geliebte.