There's few for ye will maen; For mony a better has died for me, Whose graves are growing green." "O winna ye pity me, fair maid, O winna ye pity me? Hae pity for a courteous knight, Whose love is laid on thee." "Ye say ye are a courteous knight, But I misdoubt ye sair; I think ye're but a miller lad, By the white clothes ye wear. "But ye maun read my riddle," she said, "And answer me questions three; And but ye read them richt," she said, "Gae stretch ye out and die. "What is the fairest flower, tell me, That grows on muir or dale? And what is the bird, the bonnie bird, Sings next the nightingale? And what is the finest thing," she says, "That king or queen can wale?" "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;