They mak' a study o' maps and plans,
And stravaig aboot in wee red vans
They ettle tae be awa' to the hills
To look at rocks, outcrops and sills,
And fissures, cracks and dips and strikes
Anticlines, synclines, moraines and dykes.
Basalt, granite, felspar, whin
Fegs! They ken them, ilka yin!
And ye'll aft see queerly clad apparitions
Hammering awa' in awkward positions!

Ithers tie labels like Christmas tassels
On all yon canty, couthy fossils
So that the ignorant may ken full right
A Brachiopod frae a Trilobite!
Whiles daft gomerils follow behind
And gawk and gape at these learned minds!

To go in two groups they arena blate,
Yin the Hard lot, the ither Sedate.
The Hard make for the peaks and bens,
The Sedate keep to paths and glens.
The Hard sprauchle on for hours and hours;
The Sedate stop tae admire the flowers.
What are they dots on the far horizon?
That's the Hard lotóit's not surprisin'
While the Sedate stot on their winsome way
Lucky to do a mile a day!

Not for the group thae posh hotels
Wi' schrieching plumbing and reekin' smells,
Faur better in a self-catering house
Arranged by Hogarth and his spouse.
Mountains o' food have arrived in kists
Shairly enough to feed thae geologists.
Ilka yin hae studied Mrs Beeton
So that their food is unco guid for eatin'.
Chicken, chops and mince and stews
Trifles, fruit, all sorts of brews.
Soup and cheese and mony a bean
This constitutes Geological Haute Cuisine!
Then at night in the local pub
They discuss a' their rocks and grub.

Noo anither excursion has come to an end
We hope we've all more geology learned
We hope our leaders are not too wabbit
They've aye been sae gleg and never crabbit.
Rum, Assynt, Mull and Skye
Islay and noo Arran forbye.
And whaur to next's the burning question
We're looking to you for any suggestion.*
I hope you a' feel none the worse
For listening to this littIe verse.
Lang hae ye listened tae this magnum opus
So here's my toast, and that's tae -- US!