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O ARE YE SLEEPIN' MAGGIE.
Words by TANNAHILL. Key-note A.
O ARE ye sleepin' Maggie?
O are ye sleepin! Maggie?
Let me in, for loud the linn
Is roaring o'er the warlock craigie.
Mirk and rainy is the night,
No a star in a' the carry;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And winds drive on wi' winter's fury.
O are ye sleepin', &c.
Fearfu' soughs the boor-tree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie,
Loud the iron yett does clank.
And cry o' howlets mak's me eerie.
O are ye sleepin', &c.
Aboon my breath I daurna speak,
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddy ;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek;
O rise, rise, my bonnie lady!
O are ye sleepin, &c.
She oped the door, she let him in,
He cuist aside his dreeping plaidio ;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.
Now since ye're waukin' Maggie,
Now since ye're waukin' Maggie!
What care I for howlet's cry,
For boor-tree bank, or warlock craigie ?
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HOME ! SWEET HOME!
Music by Bishop.
'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from tho skies seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home ! home! sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home! there's no place like home!
An exile from home, splendour dazzles in vain-
Oh! give me my lowly thatched cottage again ;
The birds singing gaily, that came at my call;
Give me them, with the peace of mind, dearer than all.
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home! there's no place like home!
