Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,
And fill it in a silver tassie,
That I may drink, before I go,
A service to my bonnie lassie;
The boat rocks at the Pier o' Leith,
Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,
The ship rides by the Berwick Law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked and ready,
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody:
It's
not the roar o' sea or shore
Wad
make me langer wish to tarry;
Nor
shouts o' war that's heard afar,
It's
leaving thee, my bonnie Mary!