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| | E | B | A | E | E |
| Flow | gently, sweet | Afton, a | mong thy green | braes, | |
| | C#m | B | A | E | E |
| Flow | gently, I'll s | ing 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 whistly blackbirds in yon thorny den, |
| Thou green crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear, |
| I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair. |
| | C#m | B | A | E | E |
| How | lofty, sweet | Afton, thy | neighboring | hills | , |
| | F#m | F#m | A | B | B |
| Far | mark'd with the | courses of | clear winding | rills | ; |
| | G#m | A | G# | C#m | B | A | E |
| There | daily I | wander as | noon rises | high, | oo | oh, | |
| | F#m | F#m | A | B | B |
| My f | locks and my | Mary's sweet | cot in my | eye. | |