Braw are the Grampian Mountains
Whan simmer licht is still;
And gowdan are the Carse-lands
Ablow the Corsie Hill.
Yonder the gowdan steeple
Spires up frae the auld toun,
And the brig wides through the water
Owre far awa for soun’.
And its easy in this quiet,
Sae gowdan and sae still,
To lippen that a’ the world
And your ain hert will hale.