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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 ?

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!