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? ‘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. ‘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?’ ‘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.’ ‘Noo tell me wha was your father?’ she says, ‘Noo tell me wha was your mother? And had ye ony sister?’ she says, ‘And had ye ever a brother?’ ‘The Earl of Wemyss was my father, The Countess of Wemyss my mother, Young Elinor she was my sister dear, And Lord John he was my brother.’ ‘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. ‘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. ‘Seven ships, loaded weel, Cam owre the sea wi’ me; Ane o’ them will tak me hame, And six I’ll gie to thee.’ tyne] lose. _373._ _Edward, Edward_ ‘Why does your brand sae drop wi’ blude, Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drop wi’ blude, And why sae sad gang ye, O?’ ‘O I hae kill’d my hawk sae gude, Mither, mither; O I hae kill’d my hawk sae gude, And I had nae mair but he, O.’ ‘Your hawk’s blude was never sae red, Edward, Edward; Your hawk’s blude was never sae red, My dear son, I tell thee, O.’ ‘O I hae kill’d my red-roan steed, Mither, mither; O I hae kill’d my red-roan steed, That erst was sae fair and free, O.’ ‘Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair, Edward, Edward; Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair; Some other dule ye dree, O.’ ‘O I hae kill’d my father dear, Mither, mither; O I hae kill’d my father dear, Alas, and wae is me, O!’ dule ye dree] grief you suffer. ‘And whatten penance will ye dree for that, Edward, Edward? Whatten penance will ye dree for that? My dear son, now tell me, O.’ ‘I’ll set my feet in yonder boat, Mither, mither; I’ll set my feet in yonder boat, And I’ll fare over the sea, O.’ ‘And what will ye do wi’ your tow’rs and your ha’, Edward, Edward? And what will ye do wi’ your tow’rs and your ha’, That were sae fair to see, O?’ ‘I’ll let them stand till they doun fa’, Mither, mither; I’ll let them stand till they doun fa’, For here never mair maun I be, O.’