How sweetly bloom’d the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn’s blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp’d her to my bosom! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o’er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi’ mony a vow, and lock’d embrace, Our parting was fu’ tender; And, pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But oh! fell death’s untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early! Now green’s the sod, and cauld’s the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary! O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, I aft have kiss’d sae fondly! And closed for aye the sparkling glance, That dwelt on me sae kindly! And mould’ring now in silent dust, That heart that lo’ed me dearly! But still within my bosom’s core Shall live my Highland Mary. 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 forbear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. 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. 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, The sweet-scented 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 lave, As gathering sweet flow’rets she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. DAINTY DAVIE Now rosy May comes in wi’ flowers, To deck her gay, green spreading bowers; And now comes in my happy hours, To wander wi’ my Davie. Meet me on the warlock knowe, Dainty Davie, dainty Davie, There I’ll spend the day wi’ you, My ain dear dainty Davie. The crystal waters round us fa’, The merry birds are lovers a’, The scented breezes round us blaw, A wandering wi’ my Davie. When purple morning starts the hare, To steal upon her early fare, Then through the dews I will repair, To meet my faithfu’ Davie.