"The primrose is the fairest flower,
That springs on muir or dale;
The mavis is the sweetest bird
Next to the nightingale;
And yellow gowd's the finest thing,
That king or queen can wale."
"But what is the little coin," she said,
"Wad buy my castle boun'?
And what's the little boat," she said,
"Can sail the warld all roun'?"
"O hey, how mony small pennies
Mak' thrice three thousand poun'?
O hey, how mony small fishes
Swim a' the saut sea roun'?"
"I think ye are my match," she said,
"My match, an' something mair;
Ye are the first ere got the grant
Of love frae my father's heir.
"My father was lord o' nine castles,
My mither lady o' three;
My father was lord o' nine castles,
And there's nane to heir but me,
Unless it be Willie, my ae brither,
But he's far ayont the sea."
"If your father's lord o' nine castles,
Your mither lady o' three;
It's I am Willie, your ae brither,
Was far ayont the sea."
"If ye be my brither Willie," she said,
"As I doubt sair ye be,
This nicht I'll neither eat nor drink,
But gae alang wi' thee."
"Ye've owre ill-washen feet, Margaret,
And owre ill-washen hands,
And owre coarse robes on your body,
Alang wi' me to gang.
"The worms they are my bedfellows,
And the cauld clay my sheet,
And the higher that the wind does blaw,
The sounder do I sleep.