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THE LAIRD'S PRAYER
(Words: Jim McLean Music adapted Jim McLean)

Oh God who sends us all things, partridge, grouse and deer,
Send the aristocracy to do some shooting here.
My royal, loyal ancestors, who got me this estate
To please their English masters forced the folk to emigrate,
Forced the folk to emigrate,
Oh Lord Thou kens me well,
Though my name’s Macphee, I’ll try to be
As English as yourself!

I’m a simple Highland Lairdie, so hear my Lairdies prayer,
Ahd always on the Sabbath I’l I 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 drinking men
Of the Sabbath drinking men,
Oh Lord Thou kens me well,
Though my name’s Macphee, I’ll try to be
As English as yourself!

The empty crofters’ shielings we’ve turned into pens,
For sheep can aye be bought and sold but men are, well—just men,
Ye keh this fine Great Shepherd, for You would do the same
Except to your righteous English flock of double-barrelled name,
Of double-barrelled name,
Oh Lord Thou kens me well,
Though my name’s MacPhee, I’ll try to be
As English as yourself!.

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,
Nearer my God to Thee,
Oh Lord Thou kens me well,
Though my name’s MacPhee, I’ll try to be
As English as yourself!

 

 


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