6
FAREWELL! YE DUNGEONS.
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch’s destiny;
M'Pherson’s time will not be long,
On yonder gallows tree.
Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he;
He played a spring, and danced it round
Below the gallows tree.
Oh what is death but parting breath,
On many a bloody plain?
I have dared his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again.
Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword;
And there’s no a man in a’ Scotland,
But I’ll brave him at a word.
I’ve lived a life of sturt and strife;
I die by treacherie:
It burns my heart I must depart
And not avenged be.
Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky;
May coward shame distain his name,
The wretch that dares not die.
Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he;
He play’d a spring and danced it round,
Below the gallon's tree.
