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' 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 ? '—
' 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.'—
' 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.