Meet me beneath the olive-tre
In th'garden of Gethsemane
Quhair Jesus pray'd.  Pray thou with me.

Twa corbies mak an hairie nest
Within the gardens wooden brest.
The Sunne is running toward the west.

From off the tre the fruicte doth fall
Upon the firm fixt flatten'd ball
Of wormwood Earth whose seas are gall.