‘But wha will bake my bridal bread, Or brew my bridal ale? And wha will welcome my bright Bride, That I bring owre the dale?’ ‘It’s I will bake your bridal bread, And brew your bridal ale; And I will welcome your bright Bride, That you bring owre the dale.’ ‘But she that welcomes my bright Bride Maun gang like maiden fair; She maun lace on her robe sae jimp, And comely braid her hair. ‘Bind up, bind up your yellow hair, And tie it on your neck; And see you look as maiden-like As the day that first we met.’ ‘O how can I gang maiden-like, When maiden I am nane? Have I not borne six sons to thee, And am wi’ child again?’ ‘I’ll put cooks into my kitchen, And stewards in my hall, And I’ll have bakers for my bread, And brewers for my ale; But you’re to welcome my bright Bride, That I bring owre the dale.’ Three months and a day were gane and past, Fair Annie she gat word That her love’s ship was come at last, Wi’ his bright young Bride aboard. She ’s ta’en her young son in her arms, Anither in her hand; And she’s gane up to the highest tower, Looks over sea and land. jimp] trim. ‘Come doun, come doun, my mother dear, Come aff the castle wa’! I fear if langer ye stand there, Ye’ll let yoursell doun fa’.’ 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 is gane. ‘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.’ ‘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.’ 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. And she gaed by the first table, And smiled upon them a’; But ere she reach’d the second table, The tears began to fa’. yett] gate. 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. 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. 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. ‘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’! ‘O gin my sons were seven hares, Rinnin’ owre yon lily lea, And I mysell a good greyhound, Soon worried they a’ should be!’