The Silver Tassie
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 bonie 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 bonie Mary.
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are rankèd ready;
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody;
It 's not 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 bonie Mary!