Macpherson's Rant

Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,

Farewell, farewell to thee

MacPherson's rant will no be long

Upon the gallows-tree

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he,

and he sang a tune

and danced around

below the gallows-tree

'Twas by a woman's treacherous hand

I was condemned to die

Beneath a ledge at a window she stood

and a blanket she threw o'er me

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he,

and he sang a tune

and danced around

below the gallows-tree

The Laird o' Grant, that hieland sant

that first laid hands on me

He played the cause on Peter Broon

tae let MacPherson free

Untie these bands frae off my hands

and gie to me my sword

There's no' a man in all Scotland,

but I'll brave him at a word

There's some come here tae see me hanged

and some to buy my fiddle

But before I do part wi' her

I'll brak her thro' the middle

He took the fiddle in both hands

and he broke it o'er a stone.

Says,"There's nae ither hand shall play on thee

when I am dead and gone."

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he,

and he sang a tune

and danced around

below the gallows-tree

O little did my mother think

when first she cradled me,

That I would turn a rovin' boy

and die on the gallows tree

The reprieve was comin' o'er the brig o' Banf

tae let MacPherson free,

But they set the clock a quarter past four

and hanged him tae the tree

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,

Sae dauntingly gaed he,

and he sang a tune

and danced around

below the gallows-tree