The fayriste blumis in all the wode

Besyde their formis war dunne;

There wase ane wrethe on ilken heide,

On ilken bosome thre,

And the brychtest flouris the worild e'er saw

War noddyng oure the bre.

But cese yer strayne, my gude auld herpe,

O cese and syng ne mayre!

Gin ye wolde of that meityng teil,

O I mocht reue it sayre!