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 5
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 thick and bloody；
But 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.