Page:Young Lochinvar (2).pdf/8

8 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."