weet 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, distur
Sweet Afton(2/3)