Page:The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English language - second series.djvu/56

ROBERT BURNS.

To adore thee is my duty,
⁠Goddess o' this soul o' mine!

Chorus.

⁠Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing,

⁠Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,
⁠I wad wear thee in my bosom
⁠Lest my jewel it should tine.

I.

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!

II.

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!

III.

How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,

Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills!
There daily I wander, as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.

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