THE WOODCUTTER

THE WOODCUTTER (OR, THE BALLAD OF PRINCE JOSHUA MACDAVID) This is just the Gospel in a Medieval Scottish setting. Enjoy! {(c) 2000}

A Far-off Place, A Far-Off Time
A Fair Eternity
The Prince dwelled with His Father
In The Land Beyond The Sea
The Love They Bore Each Other
Was A Love we’ve never Known
The Kind we’re told not Spoken much as Shown

A Time came when, Within the Clan,
An Enemy arose
‘Is Murd’rous pride waxed inta hate
As seed to Bloss’min’ Rose
The Loyal Clansmen Stood Them Up
An’ Fought well for The King
An’ sent the knave to exile with his underlings

The foe, he swore there’d come a day
There’d be a Reck’nin’ yet
‘Is twisted mind assured himsel’
Tha’ justice would be met
The task remained ta gain support
Right from The King’s Own Clan
So, he’d poison every mind
Woman an’ Man

The Cards had stacked against The King
The Prince, He Knew it Well
The foe had turned The Kingdom Fair
Into his living hell
The Prince, Heartbroken, Visited
The Chamber of The King
“Da,” quoth He
“Yes, Son, I See. Our Plan is Beginning”

The Woodcutter came From Afar
To Live there in the Town
He brought His Wondrous Magic
That Lured People from All around
He Saved them from their Loneliness
He Saved them from their Pain
An’ to Every Farmer’s field
He’d Send Rain


They ne’er tired of the Words He Spoke
“Come One, Come All!” said He
He Spoke much of The King
In That Land Beyond the Sea
“The King, He surely Loves ‘Is Clan,
O’ That, make no Mistake!
Faith! You’d marvel much at What
He’s Done for Your Sake!”

The enemy was much alarmed
“This Woodcutter must die!”
The foe would have The Clan
Ever believe his ancient lie
‘E stood before The Clan an’ said,
“Yer chief I’ve ever been,
So you’ll do as I command!
Do Him In!”

The people, they had surely been
Under an evil spell
The foe bein’ the chief
Was none but a lie spat up from hell
And now the knave had surely swore
The Woodcutter would die
And he’d use the people’s hands
To do it by

Now Those who swore they were His Friends
The Woodcutter betrayed
They flew and let Him Bleed
At the hands of that enemy’s brigade
And only some did realize
But that they did too late
“Och, but Aye, This was Our Prince!
Killed by our hate!”

Then Some were sad, and Others cried,
And still Some screamed aloud,
“Bring Now His Fair Young Body
To be wrapped in His Deathshroud.”
For ne’er was a soul to come,
Of Late or Yesterday
Who Showed The Love of This Prince
From Far Away

A Day went by, Anon, then Two,
An’ Then there came a Third
The Land was Silent ‘Round
An’ no’ a Clansmen spoke a word
An’, suddenly, a Fisher spoke,
An’ said, “Behold! The Prince!”
No’ a Spell like that was Cast
Before or Since

An’ Now that Our Eternal King
Has Raised His Precious Son
Usin’ The Holy Magic
That was Never Known to none
The foe has flown, he knows he’s doomed
He’s got out while he could
Defeated Forever by
This Cutter Of Wood

(SJC August 11, 2000, AM, Friday) (May Be Sung To The Tune Of: Ta’ Mo Chleamhnas a’ Dhe’anamh, A Tune Performed By Altan)