How Afton Got Its Name "The village of Afton is located on section 22, on the right bank of Lake St. Croix., It was laid out and platted by R. Haskell, Joseph Haskell, H.L. Thomas and C.S. Getchell, in May, 1855. It has a main street passing from north to south, with short streets extending up the sides of the bluffs. At the head of Main street stands the St. Croix Valley Academy, while in the center of the village is a beautiful park covered with a thick growth of native oaks. In the center an auditorium has been erected, where meetings are held in the pleasant weather of summer. Mrs. C.S. Getchell has the honor of naming this beautiful village, Afton. The name was taken from Burns' poem "Afton Water", which gives a fine description of the 'neighboring hills, and the clear winding rills.'" A beautiful incident is connected with this village. In the summer of 1856, the Hutchinson family were passing up the lake, on the steamer H.S. Allen, to fill an appointment at Stillwater. The steamer stopping at the wharf to discharge freight; one of the troupe asked the captain the name of the place. When informed, they stepped out, and in their own inimitable way, sang "Sweet Afton."*                                                                                                         from History of Washington County *The song is also known as "Flow Gently Sweet Afton" Traditional Harpsochord, bass For the Celtic version, please visit Scottish Folk Music. Traditional Scottish Folk Tune. Accordion, acoustic guitar, bass, percussion. 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 through 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-marked 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 evening 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 snawy feet lave, As gath'ring 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!                                            Robert Burns