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!