Ev'n thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, Till crush'd beneath the furrow's weight, AFTON WATER FLOW gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills, How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; There oft as mild ev'ning weeps over the lea, Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, THE BANKS O' DOON TUNE "The Caledonian Hunt's Delight" Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird. Departed never to return. Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its Luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine; Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree! And my fause Luver staw my rose, But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. DUNCAN GRAY DUNCAN GRAY cam here to woo, On blythe yule night when we were fou, Maggie coost her head fu high, Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd, Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig, Ha, ha, &c. Duncan sigh'd baith out and in, Grat his een baith bleer't and blin', Time and chance are but a tide, Slighted love is sair to bide, Shall I, like a fool, quoth he, How it comes let doctors tell, Meg grew sick, as he grew well, Something in her bosom wrings, Duncan was a lad o' grace, Ha, ha, &c. Maggie's was a piteous case, Duncan couldna be her death, AULD LANG SYNE SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, CHORUS. For auld lang syne, my dear, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, We twa hae run about the braes, We twa hae paidl't i' the burn, |