O! Are ye sleeping, Maggie?
O! are ye sleeping, Maggie?
Let me in, for loud the linn
Is roaring o'er the warlock craigie.
Mirk and rainy is the night,
No a starn in a' the carry;[84]
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And winds drive wi' winter's fury.
O! are ye sleeping, Maggie? &c.
Fearful soughs the bourtree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and dreary,
Loud the iron yate does clank,
And cry of howlets makes me eerie.
O! are ye sleeping, Maggie? &c.
Aboon my breath I daurna' speak,
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie,
Cauld 's the blast upon my cheek,
O rise, rise, my bonny lady!
O! are ye sleeping, Maggie? &c.
She opt the door, she let him in,
He cuist aside his dreeping plaidie:
"Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I 'm in aside ye."
Now, since ye 're waking, Maggie!
Now, since ye 're waking, Maggie!
What care I for howlet's cry,
For bourtree bank, or warlock craigie?
[84] This expression commonly means, the direction in which the clouds
are carried by the wind, but it is here used to denote the firmament.