Young Lochinvar (1)/Sleepin' Maggy

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SLEEPIN' MAGGY.

Mirk an’ rainy is the night,
No a starn in a’ the carry,
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
An’ win’s drive wi’ winter’s fury.
O are ye sleepin’, Maggy,
O are ye sleepin’, Maggy;
Let me in for loud the linn
Is roaring o'er the warlock craigie.

Fearfu’ soughs the boor-tree bank;
The rifted wood roars wild an’ dreary,
Loud the iron yate does clank,
And cry o’ howlets maks me eerie.
O are ye sleepin’, Maggy, &c,

Aboon my breath I darena speak,
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie,
Cauld’s the blast upon my cheek,
O rise, rise my bonny lady!
O are ye sleepin’, Maggy, &c.

She’s op’t the door, she’s let him in,
He cuist aside his dreeping plaidie;
“Blaw your warst ye rain an’ win’,
Since now I’m in aside ye, Maggy.”


This work was published before January 1, 1925, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.