Robert Burns puts us inside the head of the legendary outlaw fiddler James Macpherson, moments before his execution. The speaker isn’t begging or seeking forgiveness. He says a hard, sardonic goodbye to the dark prison and scorns death itself, remembering all the bloody battlefields where he already looked it in the face. He demands his hands be untied and his sword brought, so he can fight any man in Scotland one last time. What really burns him is that he’s dying by treachery, with no chance for revenge. There’s no self-pity, only a fierce need to exit with swagger. The chorus captures his spirit perfectly: he hits a fiddle tune and dances a defiant jig right under the gallows-tree. The mood is fierce, bitter, and almost celebratory. He bids farewell to light and the world not with sorrow, but with a curse for the coward who shrinks from death. It’s the sound of a man turning his own hanging into a brazen, foot-stomping performance.
209. Song—M’Pherson’s Farewell — Summary
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 avengèd 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.