| 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
|
| 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. |