Bonny Gyetsiders

Come, marrows, we've happen'd to meet now,
Sae wor thropples together we'll weet now;
Aw've myed a new sang,
And to sing ye't aw lang,
For it's about the Bonny Gyetsiders.

Of a' the fine Volunteer corpses,
Whether footmen, or ridin' on horses,
'Tween the Tweed and the Tees,
Deil hae them that sees
Sic a corpse as the Bonny Gyetsiders.

Whilk amang them can mairch, turn, an' wheel sae?
Whilk their guns can wise off half sae weel sae?
Nay, for myeking a crack,
Through England aw'll back
The corps of the Bonny Gyetsiders.

When the time for parading nigh hand grows,
A' wesh theirsels clean i' the sleck troughs:
Fling off their black duddies,
Leave hammers and studdies,
And to drill--run the Bonny Gyetsiders.

To Newcassel, for three weeks up-stannin,
On Parmanent Duty they're gannin;
And seun i' the papers
We's read a' the capers
O' the corps o' the Bonny Gyetsiders.

The Newcassel chaps fancy they're clever,
And are vaunting and braggin' for ever;
But they'll find theirsels wrang,
If they think they can bang,
At sowg'rin', the Bonny Gyetsiders.

The Gen'ral shall see they can lowp dykes,
Or mairch thro' whins, lair whooles, and deep sykes;
Nay, to soom (at a pinch)
Through Tyne, waddent flinch
The corps o' the Bonny Gyetsiders.

Some think Billy Pitt's nobbit hummin,
When he tells aboot Bonnepairt cummin;
But come when he may,
He'll lang rue the day
He first meets wi' the Bonny Gyetsiders:

Like an anchor-shank, smash! how they'll clatter 'im,
And turn 'im, and skelp 'im, and batter 'im;
His byens sal, by jing!
Like a frying-pan ring,
When he meets wi' the Bonny Gyetsiders.

Let them yence get 'im into their taings weel,
Nae fear but they'll give him his whaings weel;
And to Hezlett's Pond bring 'im,
And there in chains hing 'im,
What a seet for the Bonny Gyetsiders!

Now, marrows, to shew we're a' loyal,
And that, wi' the King and Blood Royal,
We'll a' soom or sink,
Quairts a-piece let us drink,
To the brave and the Bonny Gyetsiders.