MacPhearson's Lament

Farewell, farewell to ye,

MacPherson's live will no be long

Round yonder gallows-tree.

Say rantingly and say wantonly,

Say dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a tune, and danc'd it round

Below yon gallows-tree.

Take off these bands from on my hands

And give to me my sword

For there's no a man in all Scotland

But I'll brave him at his word

Now there's some come here for to see me hung

and some to buy my fiddle

but before that I will part with her

I'll break her through the middle.

And he took his fiddle in both his hands

And he broke it o'er a stone,

Saying there's no other hand shall play on thee

When I am dead and gone.

The reprieve was coming o the Brig o' Dans

To set MacPherson free,

But they put the clock a quarter before

And they hanged him from a tree.