98 BURNS
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 ranked ready, The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes thick and bloody; But it's no the roar o' sea or shore
Wad mak me langer wish to tarry, Nor shout o' war that's heard afar,
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.
��XLV DEVOTION
O MARY, at thy window be,
It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see,
That mak the miser's treasure poor.
How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun,
Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison !
Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed through the lighted ha',
To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard or saw :
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