The gardener stands in his bower-door,
With a primrose in his hand,
And by there came a leal[1291] maiden
As jimp[1292] as a willow wand.
II
‘O lady, can you fancy me,
For to be my bride?
Ye’se get a’ the flowers in my garden
To be to you a weed[1293].
III
‘The lily white sall be your smock
Becomes your body best;
Your head sall be busk’d wi’ gillyflower
And the primrose in your breast.
IV
‘Your gown sall be the sweet-william,
Your coat the camovine[1294],
Your apron a’ the salluds neat
That taste baith sweet and fine.
V
‘Your stockings sall be o’ the braid kail-blade,
That is baith braid and lang;
And narrow, narrow at the cute[1295],
And braid, braid at the brawn[1296].