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 bony 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 make me langer wish to tarry! 

Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar- 

It's leaving thee, my bony Mary!