BALLAD Poem: The Cross of Banff, by Andre Peltier

Jamie MacPherson,
Just twenty-five years,
Swung from the gallows
And died in the winds.

The market of Banff,
Sadly forgotten,
Was busy and full,
A great den of sins.

Son of a tinker
Son of the great Laird
Son of the Clansmen
From Invereshie

Wond’ring the highlands
Stalking great stags.
Wading the rivers
Baiting the fishie.

The shoreline of Banff,
Was blue and golden,
The great rocky cliffs,
Were great cliffs of sin.

Jamie MacPherson,
Just twenty-five years,
Swung from the gallows
And died in the winds.

Jamie the freeboot;
Jamie the riever.
Jamie the Gypsy:
The charge that would stick.

Farewell yon dungeons
The dark and the strong
Farewell my brothers,
The dead and the quick.

The hillsides of Banff,
Sat there in silence
Delicate witness,
To sad village sins.

Jamie MacPherson,
Just twenty-five years,
Swung from the gallows
And died in the winds.

Out stealing horses
Out riding the clouds
Bowing his fiddle
And singing his songs.

No one could touch it
His fiddle was his
No one would play it
To punish their wrongs.

For the town of Banff
A brand new lament;
A brand new lament
For our fallen friend.

Jamie MacPherson,
Just twenty-five years,
Swung from the gallows
And died in the wind.

In marched young Jamie
With piper and crew,
Waving his rifle,
Rattling his sabre.

He was but a boy
Lost and forsaken
By Lord MacPherson
Who knew no labor.

Good Sheriff Dunbar
Sentenced the hanging;
Trapped in a blanket;
Duff witness and grinned.

Jamie MacPherson,
Just twenty-five years,
Swung from the gallows
And died in the wind.

Author: poetryfest

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