Burns's magnificent death-song, McPherson's Farewell, is too well known to require more than an allusion.
I've spent my time in rioting,
Debauch'd my health and strength;
I've pillag'd, plunder'd, murdered,
But now, alas! at length,
I'm brought to punishment direct,5
Pale death draws near to me;
This end I never did project,
To hang upon a tree.
To hang upon a tree! a tree!
That curs'd unhappy death!10
Like to a wolf to worried be,
And choaked in the breath.
My very heart would surely break,
When this I think upon,
Did not my courage singular15
Bid pensive thoughts begone.
No man on earth that draweth breath,
More courage had than I;
I dar'd my foes unto their face,
And would not from them fly.20
This grandeur stout, I did keep out,
Like Hector, manfullie:
Then wonder one like me, so stout,
Should hang upon a tree!
Th' Egyptian band I did command,25
With courage more by far,
Than ever did a general
His soldiers in the war.
Being fear'd by all, both great and small,
I liv'd most joyfullie:30
O! curse upon this fate of mine,
To hang upon a tree!
As for my life, I do not care,
If justice would take place,
And bring my fellow plunderers35
Unto this same disgrace.
For Peter Brown, that notour loon,
Escap'd and was made free;
O! curse upon this fate of mine,
Both law and justice buried are,
And fraud and guile succeed;
The guilty pass unpunished,
If money intercede.
The Laird of Grant, that Highland saint,45
His mighty majestie,
He pleads the cause of Peter Brown,
And lets Macpherson die.
The destiny of my life, contriv'd
By those whom I oblig'd,50
Rewarded me much ill for good,
And left me no refuge.
For Braco Duff, in rage enough,
He first laid hands on me;
And if that death would not prevent,55
Avenged would I be.