Lawrence Gartshore

Oh rolling hills, oh grassy glens,

thy power and beauty know no ends.

Where men are bold and yet more wise; 

a land ne’r ‘fraid to punch above its size

and repel foreign tyrants who e’er they may be,

from England, to Rome, those who plunder the sea.

A rock to those who know its love

and the promised land to those above

for God’s own land is not in the east,

but in Scotland does he make his peace.