Page:Ellen More.pdf/7

7 She talk'd, she smiled, my heart she wil’d,

She charted my soul I watha how;

An' aye the stound the deadly wound,

Cam frae her een she bonnie blue.

But spare I’ll speak, an' spare I’ll speed,

She’ll aiblins listen to my vow;

Should she refuse, I’ll lay my dead

To her twa een sae bonnie blue.





SLEEPING MAGGIE.

an' rainy is the night,

No a starn in a the carry,

Lightnings gleam athwart the litt,

And winds drive wi' winter’s fury.

O are ye sleeping Maggy

O are ye 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 and dreary,

Loud the iron yett does clank,

And cry o’ howlets maks me eerie.

O are ye sleeping &c.