Flow gently sweet Afton
Robert Burns
1.
Flow gently, sweet Afton among
thy green braes;
Flow gently, I'll sing thee
a song in thy praise:
My Mary's a sleep by
thy murmuring stream;
Flow gently,
sweet Afton dis turb not her dream.
2.
Thou dove, whose soft echo
resounds from the hill,
Thou green-crested lapwing,
with noise loud and shrill,
Ye wild wistl'ing warblers
your music forbear,
I charge you disturb not
my slumbering fair.
