Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine
And fill it in a silver ta**ie;
That I may drink before I go,
A service to my bonnie la**ie.
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
Ready:
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody;
Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine
And fill it in a silver ta**ie;
That I may drink before I go,
A service to my bonnie la**ie.
It's not the roar o' sea or shore,
Wad mak me langer wich to tarry!
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar-
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary!
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked
Ready:
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody.