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.