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!