Scotland the Brave

I’m skipping posting “Flower of Scotland,” because I never really liked it until Scocha performed it at the Glengarry Games.  I still think that it’s a shame that “Scotland the Brave” isn’t the national anthem.  Here it is, this week’s poem, by Cliff Hanley, in honour the good Scottish weather we’re having today (and I don’ hae a brellie!):

Hark when the night is falling,
Hear! hear the pipes are calling,
Loudly and proudly calling, down thro’ the glen.
There where the hills are sleeping,
Now feel the blood a-leaping,
High as the spirits of the old Highland men.

Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave.
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart forever, Scotland the brave.

High in the misty Highlands,
Out by the purple islands,
Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies;
Wild are the winds that greet you,
Staunch are the friends that meet you,
Kind as the light that shines from fair maidens’ eyes.

Towering in gallant fame,
Scotland my mountain hame,
High may your proud standards gloriously wave.
Land of my high endeavour,
Land of the shining river,
Land of my heart forever, Scotland the brave.

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