Scottish folk music, I love it!

Cam ye o’er frae France?
Cam ye doon by Lunnon?
Saw ye Geordie Whelps
And his bonnie woman?
Oh, weren’t ye at the place
Called the Kittle Housie?
Saw ye Geordie’s grace
A-ridin’ on a goosie?
Geordie, he’s a man,
There is little doot o’t,
And he’s done a’ he can,
All can dae wi’oot it,
Doon there cam’ a blade,
Linkin’ like ma lordie,
He wad drive a trade
At the loom o’ Geordie.
Though the claith were bad,
Blythly may we niffer
Gin we git oor wab,
It makes little differ,
We hae tint oor plaid,
Bonnet, belt and swordie
Ha’s and mailin’s braid,
But we hae oor Geordie.
Jocky’s gone to France,
And Montgomery’s lady
There will learn to dance;
Madam, are ye ready?
They’ll be back belyve,
Belted brisk and lordly,
Brawly, may they thrive
To dance a jig wi’ Geordie!
Hey for Sandy Don,
Hey for Cockalorum,
Hey for Bobbin’ John,
And his Hielan’ quorum!
Mony a sword and lance
Swings at Hielan hurdie;
How they’ll skip and dance
O’er the bum o’ Geordie!

Brave, Courageous and bold.
Long live his fame,
and long live his glory.
Long may his worthless posts be told.