This text comes from The Scottish Minstrel (Second Series), a historical songbook transcribed on Wikisource and reproduced from the pinned revision linked below.
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?