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 ranked ready; The shouts o' war are heard afar,   The battle closes thick and bloody; But it 's no the roar o' sea or shore   Wad mak me langer wish to tarry; Nor shout o' war that 's heard afar—   It 's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary!

tassie] cup.