Bessy Bell and Mary Gray (1816-1820)/O are ye sleeping, Maggie
O ARE YE SLEEPING, MAGGIE.
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;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And winds drive wi' winter's fury.
O are ye, &c.
Fearful soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie;
Loud the iron yate does clank,
And cry of howlets maks me eerie.
O are ye, &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, &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 howlets' cry,
For boortree bank, or warlock craigie