| Hark when the night is falling
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| Hear! |
| Hear the pipes are calling,
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| Loudly and proudly calling,
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| Down thro' the glen.
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| There where the hills are sleeping,
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| Now feel the blood a-leaping,
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| High as the spirits of the old Highland men.
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| Towering in gallant fame,
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| Scotland my mountain hame,
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| High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
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| Land of my high endeavour,
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| Land of the shining river,
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| Land of my heart for ever,
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| Scotland the brave.
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| High in the misty Highlands,
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| Out by the purple islands,
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| Brave are the hearts that beat
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| Beneath Scottish skies.
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| Wild are the winds to meet you,
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| Staunch are the friends that greet you,
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| Kind as the love that shines from fair maiden’s eyes.
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| Towering in gallant fame,
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| Scotland my mountain hame,
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| High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
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| Land of my high endeavour,
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| Land of the shining river,
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| Land of my heart for ever,
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| Scotland the brave.
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| Far off in sunlit places,
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| Sad are the Scottish faces,
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| Yearning to feel the kiss
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| Of sweet Scottish rain.
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| Where tropic skies are beaming,
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| Love sets the heart a-dreaming,
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| Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.
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| Towering in gallant fame,
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| Scotland my mountain hame,
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| High may your proud standards gloriously wave,
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| Land of my high endeavour,
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| Land of the shining river,
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| Land of my heart for ever,
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| Scotland the brave. |