Or how suld I her know?
I bear a tongue ne’er wi’ her spake,
An eye that ne’er her saw.”
“O weel sail ye my true love ken,
Sae sune as ye her see;
For, of a’ the flowers of fair England,
The fairest flower is she.
“The red that’s on my true love’s cheek,
Is like blood-drops on the snaw;