O highlands in the clear sky bright
O'er the watery lochs below.
My image lingers in the stary night,
My footsteps through the snow.

O lowland shoulders broad and strong
Your sisters bring tidings of flowers.
Keep your strength in story and song
O'er the sunshine, wind and showers.

Ancestral voices sing to me
Their songs of Scottish story.
O'er the ramparts of dying free
Their tombs of solemn glory.

O Scotland, I sing of thee,
Heroes of memories long.
The sad days of wars to be free
Will live in poems and song.

Adorn with flowers for my Scottish Sires,
Love for my ancestors they receive.
Plunging forward into the flaming fires
The pilgrimage I believe.

Place the wreath upon his grave
And salute the warrior's cost.
Pray God's Mighty Hand will save
So freedom shant be lost.

O Scots cheer for the solemn Stone
As the beauty of the pipes play.
The return of the mighty Scone
And in Scotland it shall stay.

Those days of armored, gallant knights
In gloom of darkest shadow.
Yet it gleamed a beacon light
Upon the highland's and lowland's meadow.

Today the Scots are tattered
With the memory of yesteryears.
Triumphant battles are scattered
And upon their dead our tears.

Glory to Scotland; your people's hopes in smiles,
The Scottish invaders have fled.
Sprinkle the sod with flowers for miles
O'er the battlefields where Scots bled.