William Burke's Execution
(Traditional)



Let old and young unto my song
A while attention pay
The news I'll tell will please you well
The monster Burke's away
At the head of Libberton Wynd
He finished his career
There's few, I'm sure, rich or poor
For him would shed a tear

Chorus:
Now Burke, the murderer, is dead
His troubles here are o'er
We can't tell where his spririt's fled
He'll Burke the folk no more

Eighteen hundred and twenty nine
Let it recorded be
Twenty eight day of January
He suffer'd on a tree
To Edinbro', numbers did go
That day before 'twas noon
For to see Burke, that cruel Turk
Receive his awful doom

They brought him from Calton Jail
Some time in the night
They thought the crowd would do the job
Had they waited till light
From the Lock-up they brought Burke
Out about the hour of eight
Where about forty-thousand folk
Impatiently did wait

The injur'd crowd, they groan'd aloud
This monster to behold
Who in his time had thought no crime
To murder young and old
When the scaffold he did ascend
The people all did cry
Bring out Will Hare, we think it fair
That he should also die

As round his neck the rope it went
The shouts did rend the sky
It's "Burke him, Burke him," the bloodhound
The people all did cry
The shouts they did continue on
Until he was cut down
The like was never heard before
In Edinbro' town

His bloody den, it does remain
For strangers to behold
Where him and Hare, they did not spare
The lives of young or old
In memory his bones will be
Preserved for years to come
Ye Burkites! now beware, lest you
Do meet with the same doom

Chorus