Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
M'Pherson's time will not be long
On yonder 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, sae wantonly,
Sae dauntingly gaed he;
He play'd a tune, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

It was by a woman's treacherous hand
That I was condemned to dee
She stood abin a windae ledge
And a blanket threw o'er me.

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

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.

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 tune, he danced aroond,
Allow the gallows-tree.