A Song for Hawk: "Witch of the Westmoreland" by Stan Rodgers

Pale was the wounded knight that bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field
Saying "Beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound
There's none but the witch of the Westmoreland
can make thee hale and sound. . . ."

And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod,
full fast in her arms he lay
And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day
And she said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel,
and your good grey hawk in hand
There's none can harm the knight who's lain
with the Witch of the Westmorland."

Read the full lyrics here: http://www.bardicarts.org/songs/Magic/witchofthewestmoreland.html