Lyrics Greenhouse - MacPherson's Rant

Роберт Бернс M'Pherson's Farewell:

Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
M'Pherson's time will not be long
On yonder gallows-tree.

Chorus.-Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he;
He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

O, what is death but parting breath?
On many a bloody plain
I've dared his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again!
Sae rantingly, &c.

Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring me to my sword;
And there's no a man in all Scotland
But I'll brave him at a word.
Sae rantingly, &c.

I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife;
I die by treacherie:
It burns my heart I must depart,
And not avenged be.
Sae rantingly, &c.

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, &c.

Сама баллада:

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly
Sae dauntingly gaed he
He played a tune and he danced it aroon'
Alow the gallows tree

Fareweel, ye dungeons dark and strang
Fareweel, fareweel, said he
MacPherson's time will no' be lang
Alow the gallows tree

It was by a woman's treacherous hand
That I was condemned tae dee
Aboon a ledge at a windae she stood
And a blanket she threw o'er me

Untie these bands frae aff o' my hands
And gie tae me my sword
There's no a man in a' Scotland
But I'll brave him at his word

There's some come here tae see me hang
And some tae buy my fiddle
But afore that I dae part wi' her
I'd brak' her through the middle

He took his fiddle into both of his hands
And he brak' it o'er a stone
Said, Nae ither hands shall play on thee
When I am deid and gane

Ach, little did my mother think
When first she cradled me
That I would turn a roving boy
And die on the gallows tree

The reprieve it was coming o'er the Brig o' Banff
Tae set MacPherson free
But they put the knock tae a quarter past four
And they hanged him tae the tree