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5
Cruel remembrance, ah! why wilt thou rack me,
Brooding o’er joys tha forever are flown!
Cruel remembrance, in pity forsake me,
Flee to some bosom where grief is unknown.
SLEEPING MAGGIE.
Mirk an’ ⟨rainy⟩ is the night,
No a starn in a’ the carry,
Lightnings gleam a thwart the lift
And winds drive wi’ winter’s fury.
O are ye sleeping Maggie,
O are ye sleeping, Maggie,
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 yett does ⟨clank⟩
And cry o’ howlets maks me eerie.
O are ye sleeping, &c.
Aboon my breath I darena speak,
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddy,
