My Bonie Mary（1 / 1）

my bonie mary

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 ranked 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 bonie mary!