The Music Of Scotland |
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Macpherson's Farewell |
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong Farewell, farewell to thee. Macpherson's rant will ne'er be lang On yonder gallows tree. Chorus Sae rantingly, sae wontonly Sae dauntingly gaed he He played a tune an' he danced aroon Beneath the gallows tree. It was by a woman's treacherous hand That I was condemned to dee Beneath a ledge at a window she stood And a blanket she threw o'er me. Well the laird o' Grant, that highlan' sa'nt That first laid hands on me He played the cause on Peter Broon To let Macpherson dee. Untie these bands from off my hands And gie to me my sword There's nae a man in a' Scotland But I'll brave him at a word. There's some come here to see me hanged And some to buy my fiddle But before that I do part wi' her I'll brak her thro' the middle. He took the fiddle into both his hands And he broke it o'er a stone Says there's nae other hand shall play on thee When I am dead and gone. O, little did my mother think When she first cradled me That I would turn a rovin' boy And die on the gallows tree. The reprive was comin' o'er the brig o' Banff To let Macpherson free But they pit the clock a quarter afore And hanged him to a tree. |