CLXVIII A Farewell
Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine,
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,
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 rankéd 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 make me langer wish to tarry;
Nor shout o’ war that’s heard afar—
It’s leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.
R. Burns