| Farewell ye dungeons dark and strong
|
| Farewell, farewell tae thee
|
| MacPhersons time will no be lang
|
| On yonder gallow’s tree
|
| It was by a woman’s treachorous hands
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| That I was condemned to dee
|
| She stood uben a windae ledge
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| And a blanket threw o’er me
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| Sae rantingly, sae wantonly
|
| Ans sae dauntingly gaed he
|
| He played a tune and he danced around
|
| Below the gallow’s tree
|
| Oh what is death, but parting breath
|
| On mony a bloody plain
|
| I’ve daur’d his face, and in his place
|
| I scorn him yet again
|
| I have lived a life, o' straught and strife
|
| I die by treachery
|
| It burns my heart, that I must depart
|
| An no avenged be
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| So tak these bands fae aff my hands
|
| Gae to me my sword
|
| There’s nae a man in a' Scotland
|
| But I’ll brave him at a word
|
| Now farewell light thou sunshine bright
|
| And all beneath the sky
|
| May coward shame distain his name
|
| The wretch that dare not die |