The gude auld Kirk o' Scotland,
The wild winds round her blaw,
And when her foemen hear her
sough,
They prophecy her fa' ;
But what although her fate has
been
Amang the floods to sit -
The gude auld Kirk o' Scotland,
She's nae in ruins yet !
There may be wrath within her
wa's,
What reck ! her wa's are wide ;
It's but the beating of a heart,
The rushing of a tide,
Whose motion keeps its waters
pure ;
Then let them foam or fret,
The gude auld Kirk o' Scotland
She's nae in ruins yet !
She was a lithe, she was a licht,
When a'thing else was mirk,
An' mony a trembling heart has
found
It's bield behind the Kirk ;
She bore the brunt, and did her
due,
When Scotland's sword was wet,
The gude auld Kirk o' Scotland,
She's nae in ruins yet !
The clouds that overcast her sky
Maun shortly flit awa',
A bonnie, blue and peaceful
heaven
Smile sweetly through them a' !
Her country's life-blood's in
her viens,
The wide warld's in her debt !
The gude auld Kirk o' Sotland,
She's nae in ruins yet !
