Whae'er ye be that woman love, To this be never blind, Nae ferlie 'tis tho' fickle she A woman has❜t by kind: O woman lovely, woman fair! prove, An angel form's faun to thy share, FLOW GENTLY, SWEET AFTON. TUNE-Afton Water. FLOW gently, sweet Afton,among 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 stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming for bear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. |