Flow Gently, Sweet Afton |
Robert Burns, 1791
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.
2. Though stockdove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
3. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, | 4. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft, as mild ev'ning creeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
5. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
6. Flow gently, sweet Afton, amang thy green braes, |