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This is part of Jane's series of "Twelve Days of Stories" for Xmas 2007/2008.
Yes, "colly", not "calling". It means "black". And you know where that takes us... ransacking English folk-song, that's where. In case you don't know either the "Three Ravens" or the "Twa Corbies", here's a MIDI of the tune, and I'd suggest (as always) looking at the Contemplator website for more details. My version, incidentally, is more cheerful than either of the originals.
There were four ravens sat on a tree
(Down a down, hey down, hey down)
And they were black as they could be
(With a down.)
They oversaw the battlefield
Where men had fought and would not yield.
(With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.)
The one of them said to his mate
(Down a down, hey down, hey down)
"Where shall we our breakfast take?"
(With a down.)
"There lies a dead Sword on the ground.
His Storms fell with him, all around."
(With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.)
"His hawk, his hound, and his young wife
(Down a down, hey down, hey down)
All seek to bring him back to life
(With a down.)
"His soul draws nigh to Humakt's Hall
He will not answer to their call.
(With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.)
"His hawk flies all around his head
(Down a down, hey down, hey down)
She tries to keep us from the dead.
(With a down.)
"His hounds they lie still at his feet
So well they do their master keep.
(With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.)
"His wife binds wounds as Jera taught
(Down a down, hey down, hey down)
But all her herbs
avail her naught.
(With a down.)
"Oer his white banes, when they we bare,
The wind shall blaw for evermair."
(With a down, derry, derry, derry down, down.)