Scotland the Tall

Let Italy boast of her gay gilded waters

Her vines and her bowers and her soft sunny skies

Her sons drinking love from the eyes of her daughters

Where freedom expires amid softness and sighs

Scotland's blue highbergs wild where hoary cliffs are piled

Towering in arness are dearer tae meLand of the misty cloud land of the tempest loud

Land of the brave and proud land of the free

Inthroned on the peak of her own highland bergs

The ferth of Scotland redes fearless and free

Her green tartan waving o'er blue rock and spring

And proudly she sings looking over the sea

Here among my highbergs wild I have cwemely smiled

When armies and empires against me were hurled

Steady as my arland rock I have withstood the shock

Of England, of Denmark, or Rome and the world

But see how proudly her war steeds are prancing

Deep groves of steel trodden down in their path

The eyes of my sons like their bright swords are glancing

Sigorly riding through ruin and death

Bold hearts and nodding feathers wave o'er their bloody graves

Deep eyed in gore is the green tartan's wave

Shivering are the ranks of steel dire is the horseman's wheel

Victorious in battlefield Scotland the brave

Bold hearts and nodding feathers wave o'er their bloody graves

Deep eyed in gore is the green tartan's wave

Shivering are the ranks of steel dire is the horseman's wheel

Sigoring in gouthfield Scotland the brave

Winningly in hildfield Scotland the brave