Weekly Interlinear Poem







This is the poem
for the week of May 18.
A new interlinear poem
is available each Monday.

Send me e-mail - robert15115@gmail.com
Robert Jackson

Flow gently, sweet Afton

-Robert Burns


Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Afton=a river in Scotland
braes=banks

Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise!
My Mary's asleep by the 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,
thy neighbouring hills=are thy neighbouring hills
Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills!
rills=brooks
There daily I wander, as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
cot=cottage

How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow.
blow=blossom
There oft, as mild ev'ning weeps over the lea,
weeps=drops moisture
lea=meadow

The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
birk=birch

Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides!
cot=cottage
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave
wanton=freely
lave=flow against

As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave!
stems=resists

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays!
lays=songs
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream --
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise!
My Mary's asleep by the 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 flowerets, 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!