Auld 'Muchty Toon, oor childhood's hame,
For aye we'll haud you dear;
Llk red-tiled roof, ilk couthy wynd,
And stragglin' street revere.

The Toon Hoose wi' its auld Toon bell,
The beterson sae high,
Stand foonded there on solid rock,
That age and wear defy.

The Calsay Burn aye rinnon doon,
Through brigs and past the mills,
Whiles tricklin' licht, whiles tearin' wild,
In spate frae Colzie hills.

High up the banks, in Simmer strewn
Wi' gowans rare and sweet,
And daisies there bedecked wi' dew,
Grown rampant 'mangst your feet.

The Sawmill Brae sae lang and steep,
Its vergers rough defined
Wi' thorny white whins and yellow broom,
Wild roses fast entwined.

In Glessarts Glen and up the Lays.
We'd roam frae morn til een,
Tae us a childish paradise
Was that enchanted scene.

The Whitefield, Muir, and Plantin',
Aye memories fond reca'.
The Loans stand vivid in our minds,
We loved it best of a'

For there upon the level sward,
Or by the Burnside,
We'd romp and plau, the lea lang day,
And youthful tales confide.

Auld 'Muchty, aye your every nook
And corner brings tae min',
Some happy ploy, some joysome hour,
That happened noo lang syne.

Life's thorny path, and uphill road,
In distance unseen lay,
Nor troubled were our minds as yet,
With plans for future day.

The exile faur awa' frae hame,
Maist onything was swap,
Tae hear again the peewits' cry,
The wheeple o' the whaup.

The tinglin' o' the Auld Kirk bell,
In Simmer air like balm,
The sough o' silence a' aroond,
In Sabbath mornin's calm.

The waff o' wind that safetly blaws,
Ower auld Craigoorus Knowe,
The distant Lomonds, guardians over,
The beauties of the Howe.

Sae, still mair dear as years row on,
And time itsd season bring.
We prize the spot that gave us birth,
And tae it fondly cling.

And though afar we wander wide,
In search o' fame or gold,
Our hearts' hame severed ne'er can be,
From thee our early fold.