‘I want you to wash it on yonder hill,
Where dew never was nor rain never fell.
4
‘I want you to dry it on yonder thorn,
Where tree never blossomed since Adam was born.’
5
‘And since you have asked three questions of me,
Let ev’ry rose grow merry in time
Now and I will ask as many of thee,
And then I will be a true lover of thine.