1.
Whoe'er he be that sojourns here,
I pity much his case,
Unless he come to wait upon
The Lord their God, 'His Grace.'
2.
There's naething here but Highland pride
And Highland scab and hunger:
If Providence has sent me here,
'Twas surely in an anger.

Who ever he be that sojourns here,
I pity much his case,
Unless he come to wait upon
The Lord their God, 'His Grace.'

There is nothing here but Highland pride
And Highland scab and hunger:
If Providence has sent me here,
It was surely in an anger.