Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine And fill it in a silver ta**ie; That I may drink before I go, A service to my bonnie la**ie. 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 ta**ie; That I may drink before I go, A service to my bonnie la**ie. 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.