"What is the fairest flower, tell me, That grows in muir or dale?[L50] 50 Likewise, which is the sweetest bird Sings next the nightingale? Or what's the finest thing," she says, "That king or queen can wale?[L54] "The primrose is the fairest flower 55 That grows in muir or dale;[L56] The mavis is the sweetest bird Next to the nightingale; And yellow gowd's the finest thing That king or queen can wale. 60 "Ye ha'e asked many questions, lady, I've you as many told;" "But, how many pennies round Make a hundred pounds in gold? "How many of the small fishes, 65 Do swim the salt seas round? Or, what's the seemliest sight you'll see Into a May morning?" "Berry-brown ale, and a birken speal, And wine in a horn green; 70 A milk-white lace in a fair maid's dress, Looks gay in a May morning." "Mony's the questions I've ask'd at thee, And ye've answer'd them a'; Ye are mine, and I am thine, 75 Amo' the sheets sae sma'." "You may be my match, kind sir, You may be my match and more; There ne'er was ane came sic a length, Wi' my father's heir before. 80 "My father's lord o' nine castles, My mother she's lady ower three, And there is nane to heir them all, No never a ane but me; Unless it be Willie, my ae brother, 85 But he's far ayont the sea." "If your father's laird o' nine castles, Your mother lady ower three; I am Willie your ae brother, Was far beyond the sea." 90 "If ye be Willie, my ae brother, As I doubt sair ye be; But if it's true ye tell me now, This night I'll gang wi' thee." "Ye've ower ill washen feet, Janet, 95 And ower ill washen hands, And ower coarse robes on your body, Alang wi' me to gang. "The worms they are my bed-fellows, And the cauld clay my sheet; 100 And the higher that the wind does blaw, The sounder I do sleep. "My body's buried in Dumfermline, And far beyond the sea; But day nor night, nae rest cou'd get, 105 All for the pride o' thee. "Leave aff your pride, jelly Janet," he says, "Use it not ony mair; Or when ye come where I hae been, You will repent it sair. 110 "Cast aff, cast aff, sister," he says, "The gowd lace fray your crown; For if ye gang where I ha'e been, Ye'll wear it laigher down.