Henry's Songbook

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The Laird's Prayer

  • (Jim McLean)

            Oh Lord thou kenst me well
            Though my name's MacPhee I try to be
            As English as yersel'

    Oh God who sends us all things - partridge, grouse, and deer
    Send the aristocracy to dae some hunting here
    My loyal Royal ancestors who got me this estate
    To please their English masters forced the folk to emigrate

    I'm a simple Highland lairdie, so hear my lairdie's prayer
    And always on the Sabbath I'll be yours for evermair
    The fishing here is sacred, there's peace within the glen
    Since you helped us clear the Highlands of the Sabbath-drinkin' men

    The empty crofters shielings we've turned into pens
    For sheep can aye be bought and sold, but men are - well: just men
    You'll ken this fine, great shepherd, for you would do the same
    Except your righteous English flock of double-barrelled name

    How holy is Balmoral, now all our hymns are sung
    By our betters down in Crathie in the Anglo-Saxon tongue
    And should the Gaels return, and I am forced to flee
    Let me be down in London town, nearer, my God, to thee

    (as sung by Nigel Denver)

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aktualisiert am 5.09.2000