She’s ta’en a cake o’ the best bread, A stoup o’ the best wine, And a’ the keys upon her arm, And to the yett[307] is gane. XII ‘O ye’re welcome hame, my ain gude lord, To your castles and your towers; Ye’re welcome hame, my ain gude lord, To your ha’s, but and your bowers. And welcome to your hame, fair lady! For a’ that’s here is yours.’ XIII ‘O whatna lady’s that, my lord, That welcomes you and me? Gin I be lang about this place, Her friend I mean to be.’ XIV Fair Annie served the lang tables Wi’ the white bread and the wine; But ay she drank the wan water To keep her colour fine. XV And aye she served the lang tables Wi’ the white bread and the brown, And aye she turn’d her round about, Sae fast the tears fell doun. XVI She took a napkin lang and white, And hung it on a pin; It was to wipe away the tears, As she gaed out and in. XVII When bells were rung and mass was sung, And a’ men bound for bed, The bridegroom and the bonny Bride In ae chamber were laid. XVIII Fair Annie’s ta’en a harp in her hand, To harp thir twa asleep; But ay, as she harpit and she sang, Fu’ sairly did she weep. XIX ‘O gin my sons were seven rats, Rinnin’ on the castle wa’, And I mysell a great grey cat, I soon wad worry them a’! XX ‘O gin my sons were seven hares, Rinnin’ owre yon lily lea, And I mysell a good greyhound, Soon worried they a’ should be!’ XXI Then out and spak the bonny young Bride, In bride-bed where she lay: ‘That’s like my sister Annie,’ she says; ‘Wha is it doth sing and play? XXII ‘I’ll put on my gown,’ said the new-come Bride, ‘And my shoes upon my feet; I will see wha doth sae sadly sing, And what is it gars her greet. XXIII ‘What ails you, what ails you, my housekeeper, That ye mak sic a mane? Has ony wine-barrel cast its girds, Or is a’ your white bread gane?’-- XXIV ‘It isna because my wine is spilt, Or that my white bread’s gane; But because I’ve lost my true love’s love, And he’s wed to anither ane.’-- XXV ‘Noo tell me wha was your father?’ she says, ‘Noo tell me wha was your mither? And had ye ony sister?’ she says, ‘And had ye ever a brither?’-- XXVI ‘The Earl of Wemyss was my father, The Countess of Wemyss my mither, Young Elinor she was my sister dear, And Lord John he was my brither.’-- XXVII ‘If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, I wot sae was he mine; And it’s O my sister Annie! Your love ye sallna tyne[308]. XXVIII ‘Tak your husband, my sister dear; You ne’er were wrang’d for me, Beyond a kiss o’ his merry mouth As we cam owre the sea. XXIX