Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine
An' 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 rankèd 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 tassie;
That I may drink before I go,
A service to my bonnie lassie.
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.
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