  Of a’ the many bonny corps, Which now our country nigh fill, Where can ye shew me sic a corps, As the bonny Wallsend Rifle? The bonny Wallsend Rifle, The canny Wallsend Rifle; Where can ye shew me sic a corps, As the bonny Wallsend Rifle? Whe loups the dykes, an’ climbs the wa’s, Then thinks it but a trifle? Why, naen amang the black-breek’d chaps; Naen but the Wallsend Rifle. The bonny, &c. They’ve brav’ry aboon the een; And when on Throckley High Fell, Th’ Newcastle chaps dar’d not engage; They tuke the Wallsend Rifle. The bonny, &c. To see them shut, then run, then shut, And then fall down or lye still: O wuns! it’s better than a play, The bonny Wallsend Rifle. The bonny, &c. With bravery to kill the French, Long may their bosoms high fill: And long may monny on us sing— The bonny Wallsend Rifle. The bonny, &c. |
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