X: 1
T: LET ME IN THIS AE NIGHT
O: 1811
B: "Caledonian Musical Repository", 1811, p.32-35
F: http://digital.nls.uk/special-collections-of-printed-music/pageturner.cfm?id=87686121
Z: 2013 John Chambers <jc:trillian.mit.edu>
M: C
L: 1/8
K: Em
% - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A | G E E F G A B G |
w: O las-sie, art thou sleep-ing yet? Or
A B c A d> c B> A |
w: art thou wak-in, I would wit; For
%page 33
G E E ^d e f g> e |
w: love has bound me hand and fit, And
d B A G A2 B |][| A | G E E d
w: I wad fain be in, jo. O let me in this
e2 e2 B | d2 (dA) (Bc) B> A |
w: ae night, This ae, ae,* ae* night, For
G <E E ^d (ef) g> e | d B A
w: pi-ty's sake, this ae* night, O wad ye let
G A2 B |]
w: me in, jo.
% - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
W:2.Out o'er the moss, out o'er the muir,
W:  I came, this dark and dreary hour,
W:  And here I stand without the door,
W:    Amid the pouring storm, jo.
W:      O let me in, &c.
W:
W:3.Thou hearest the winter wind and weet,
W:  Nae star blinks through the driving sleet,
W:  Tak pity on my weary feet,
W:    And shield me frae the rain, jo,
W:      O let me in, &c.
W:
W:4.The bitter blast that round me blaws,
W:  Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's;
W:  The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause
W:    O' a' my grief and pain, jo.
W:      O let me in, &c.
W:
W:  HER ANSWER.
W:
W:5.O tell na me o' wind and rain,
W:  Upbraid na me wi' cauld disdain;
W:  Gae back the gate you cam again;
W:    I winna let you in, jo.
W:        I tell you now this ae night.
W:        This ae, ae, ae night;
W:          And ance for a' this ae night,
W:            I winna let you in, jo.
W:
W:6.The snellest blast, at mirkest hours,
W:  That round the pathless wand'rer pours,-
W:  Is nought to what poor she endures,
W:    That trusted faithless man, jo.
W:      I tell you now, &c,
W:
W:7.The sweetest flow'r that deck'd the mead,
W:  Now trodden like the vilest weed:
W:  Let simple maids the lesson read,
W:    The weird may be their ain, jo.
W:      I tell you now, &c.
W:
W:8.The bird that charm'd his summer day,
W:  Is how the cruel fowler's prey:
W:  Let witless, trusting woman, say,
W:    How aft her fate's the same, jo,
W:      I tell you now, &c.
% - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -