Robert Burns (1759–1796)

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 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 shouts o’ war that’s heard afar—

It’s leaving thee, my bonnie Mary!