"The fairest flower is she.
"The red, that's on my true love's cheik,
"Is like blood drops on the snaw;
"The white, that is on her breast bare,
"Like the down o' the white sea-maw.
"And even at my love's bour door
"There grows a flowering birk;
"And ye maun sit and sing thereon
"As she gangs to the kirk.
"And four-and-twenty fair ladyes