sweet afton
flow gently, sweet afton! amang thy green braes,
flow gently, i'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
my mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
flow gently, sweet afton, disturb not her dream.
thou stockdove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
ye wild whistling bckbirds in yon thorny den,
thou greeed pwing thy screaming forbear,
i charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair.
how lofty, sweet afton, thy neighb hills,
far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills;
there daily i wander as noon rises high,
my flocks and my mary's sweet cot in my eye.
how pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
where, wild in the woodnds, the primroses blow;
there oft, as mild ev'ning weeps over the lea,
the sweet-sted birk shades my mary and me.
thy crystal stream, afton, how lovely it glides,
and winds by the cot where my mary resides;
how wanton thy waters her snowy feet ve,
as, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.
flow gently, sweet afton, amang thy green braes,
flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my ys;
my mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
flow gently, sweet afton, disturb not her dream.