My Heart 's In The Highlands, My

See Social-life And Glee Sit Down, All Joyous And Unthinking, Till, Quite Transmugrified, They're Grown Debauchery And Drinking

Some Wee Short Hour Ayont The Twal.

I Waive The Quantum O' The Sin, The Hazard Of Concealing; But, Och! It Hardens A' Within, And Petrifies The Feeling!

And Let Us Mind, Faint Heart Ne'er Wan A Lady Fair. Wha Does The Utmost That He Can Will Whyles Do Mair.

Good Lord, What Is Man! For As Simple He Looks, Do But Try To Develop His Books And His Crooks, With His Depths And His Shallows, His Good And His Evil, All In All, He's A Problem Must Puzzle The Devil.