[from Manx Carols, 1891]



Trog seose, my chree, nagh mie dhyts nish,
Dty aigney slane hyndaa,
Voish shelg lurg nhee aghyn faase y theihll
Nagh vel agh myr veeagh kay.

Ayns geiyrtys er tou goll rishyn,
Ta oaggey nei yn gheay,
Ny marrinee gleck noi geay as muir,
Ta ooilley slane ny oie.

Te myr veagh tonn jeh'n faarkey quaagh,
Lesh sterrym goll heose as sheese,
Shen myr ta mish fud boirey'n theihll
Cha vel aym laa dy aash.

My ta yn moghrey grianagh glen,
Hig fastyr bodjallyn,
Vet fliaghey taarnagh as tendreil,
As shegin dooys surranse shen.

Lesh smooinaght mennick ta mish skee,
Nee mish my lomarcan,
Ta kianglit gys y voirey shoh.
Ny nee eh stsyd dagh nane.

As yeesgh mee seose voym gys y Ree,
Ta'n attey er eh chione,
Row sesghyn perrill Cheet ny chour,
Cre'n stayd va echin ayn.

As hooar mee eh fo lane imnea,
As laadit lesh kiarail,
Dy relll dy kiart eh pobble hene
Da noidyn choyrt meeiteil,

Eisht smooinee mee er shoh rhympene,
As jirryms shickyr ta,
Eh heaghyn as eh pherril neesht,
Dynyss da fet ny gha.

Eisht moyllyms da yn labree boght,
Ta reurey fey ny laa,
Dy vel eh foddey roish y Ree
Ayns souyrinys as fea.

Ta Job dy ghra, dagh dooinney ta
Gys heaghyn er ny vreh,
Nagh myr ta'n smaylyn troggal seose,
Ta shen cha shickyr da.

Cha jean eh mie goall corree rish,
Cha vod mayd eh vendeil,
Son liorish prowal Solomon
Yn seihll shoh vees fardail.

Te feeu dooys eisht chyndaa mygeayrt
Dy eaisht ayns yrjid keeayl,
Vel shoh voish taghyrt ny voish Jee
Ta ooilley fo eh reill.

Tra hig y vaase, aless ! cre sheeagh,
My hroare, my heshereeys,
My chirree cabbyl, ny my crouw,
As mish ve lhuome jeh grayse.

Sheese ec e chassyn tuittyym's eisht,
Goym rish, my peccah baaish
" Jean myghin er dty voght, O, Hiarn,
O, soilshee orryms grayse,

" Ny chooinee er my loghtyn broghe,
Ta mooar ayns coontey m'oi,
Agh gow er laue doghanagh boght
Ta shirrey reeshtagh mie.

"O, chyndaa mish voish saynt y theihll,
As ssynt yn eill neuglen ;
O, chyndaa mee voish moyrn y vea,
Lhig slane my gtaih v'ort hene.

" As gow mish stiagh fo skaa dty skian,
Lhig soilshey d'eddin's glen,
Cheet orryms neose as toiggyms eisht
Dy vel oo coardit rhym.

" My jirroo rhym ayns cairys vees,
Dy vel mish mooar neufeeu,
Jeh myghin voids, va gobbal choud,
Dy choyrt geil da dty ghoo.

" Ny-yeih cur chied dooys greimmey shen,
Ny ren oo hen e y ghraa-
" Eh harragh hood ass lheh dty Vac,
Nagh jean oo voish chyndaa.'

" Ayns jerkal rish dty ghialdynyns,
Ta mish goaill daanys reesht,
Dy heet ayns d'enish coarayney foayr
Son toilliu Yeesey Chreest."

Shoh eh quoi giall oo hene y choyrt,
Dy stampey yn ardnieu sheese,
Son molley Adam voish e Vee
Tra ve er beggan frioose.

Shoh hug er wheesh dy cheagh noi Jee,
Noi doomney daase yn troo,
Tra honnick eh e ayns cairys glen,
As esbyn beisht cha doo.

Slane mainshtyr jeh dagh olk sy theihll,
Rass dy veeghiastyllys,
As cowrey troo myskid as olk,
Hiarn, livrey shinnyn voish.

Gow ec cheayrt veih ny mastey shin,
Yn Jouyl shoh dy anvea,
Eisht bee ain cooney son graih ny nhee,
Yn Spyrryd crauee fea.

O, skeayl uss shoh er feai yn theihll,
Er lheh ny msstey ain,
Lhig da dagh naboo graihagh ve
Myr doardee Jee eh hene.

She oo ta caggey noi yn Jouyl,
As freayl shin voish e phooar,
She oo ta leih ny loghtyn dooin
Noi niurin tou's couyr.

T'ou kinjagh sooree eddyr Jee,
As deiney treia yn theihll,
T'ou poosey Jee as dooinney reesht
Ayns sniem dy slane coardail.

T'ou ooilley ayn ooilley ny ta mie,
Dty enish lane dy ghrayse,
O, freayl jee eh ny matey shin,
Ny scarr jee rish dy bragh.

Eh ver diu aash ayns foayr y Chiarn,
As maynrys nagh jean treih,
Eh nee shin goll rish Jee, quoi dooyrt
She mish mee-hene slane graih.

Gloyr son dy bragh hoods Jee yn Ayr,
Quoi chroo as choadey shin,
Gloyr gys dty Vac, quoi lesh E vaase
Hayrn shin voish aile niurin.

Gloyr gys y Spyrryd Noo, haink neose
Lesh graih dy lhieeney shin,
Gloys gys y Three, quoi ta un Jee
Hug grayse as mieys hooin.

 Rise up, my heart! 'tis well for thee
To turn thyself wholly
From following weak worldly things,
Which as a vapour pass.

In following these thou'rt like to him
Who fights against the winds,
Or sailors wrestling all the night
Against the stormy sea.

Just like a wave in a rough sea,
With storms heaves up and down,
So I, midst troubles of this world,
Have not a day of rest.

Wen if the morn be clear and bright,
At eve the clouds will come,
Which will bring rain, light'ning, and storm,
And I must suffer it.

With often thinking I am tired,
Am I the only one
Who is bound down by this worry,
Or is't the lot of all?

And so I looked up to the King,
Who wears a golden crown,
Do troubles, perils, come his way,
What is his state of mind?

And I found him in great trouble,
Oppressed with the cares
Of keeping his subjects loyal,
Of guarding 'gainst his foes.

When I think on this to myself,
I must perforce declare
That his troubles and perils too
To many are unknown,

Then will I praise the lab'rers lot
Who digs and delves all day,
For he is far above the king
In comfort and in ease.

Job says to us that ev'ry man
Is unto trouble born,
So surely will it come to him
As the sparks upward fly.

'Twill do no good to get angry,
That will net improve it,
For by King Solomon's proving,
This world is vanity.

'Tic then worth while to pay good heed
To the highest wisdom,
Does it proceeed from chance or God
By whom all things are ruled?

When death comes on me how much worth
Will be my crop and teams,
My sheep my cattle, all my stock,
If I be void of grace.

Down at his feet I then will fall,
Confess my deadly sin,
Have meroy on this poor soul,
Lord, O shine on me with grace."

" Remember not 'gainst me my sins,
So numerous are they,
But help up a poor impotent
Who wishes to be well."

O turn me from the things of earth,
And fleshly lusts unclean,
O turn me from the pride of life,
Be all my love to Thee."

" Neath Thy wings' shadow let me rest,
And let Thy face's light
Come down on me that I may know
Thou hast forgiven me."

" With justiee thou wilt truly say
That I am unworthy
Of grace from thee, having refused
So long to heed Thy word."

" Nathless, permit me to rely
On what 'thyself has said,
`Who comes to me in My son's name,
I will not from him turn.' "

" In great hope from thy promises,
I have again made bold
To come to Thee begging favour
Through Jesus Christ's merits."

Indeed, 'twas he who gave himself
To tread the serpent down,
For turning Adam from his God,
When he was off his guard.

This is what enraged him 'gainst God,
And made him envy man,
When he saw him in uprightness,
And himself such a beast.

Of ill sole master in the world,
Of unkindness the root,
And a sign of malice, from him
Good Lord deliver us.

Take away now from amongst us
This devil of riot,
Then to love thee we shall have help
From the spirit of rest.

O spread thy love o'er all the world,
Especially 'mongst us,
Let ev'ry neighbour be loving,
As God himself ordained.

'Tis thou, O Love, who fight'st the devil,
And keep'st us from his pow'r,
Thou pardon'st our sins, and art
A shield 'gainst hell below.

'Tic thou who interceed'st with God,
For wretched worldly men,
Uniting God and man again
In a complete accord.

Thou art entirely good, of grace
Thy presence is so full,
O friends, keep love amongst you then,
And never part with it.

'Twill give you favour with the Lord,
And happiness for aye,
'Twill make you like to God himself,
Who is the perfect love.

To God the Father glory be,
Who made and protects us,
Glory to Thy Son, who by death
Drew us out from hell-fire.

And to the Holy Ghost who came
To fill us all with love,
And glory to the three in one
Who gave their grace to us.

Written in 1739, by the Rev; Thomas Allen, Vicar of Maughold from 1727 to 1746,.
Translated by W.J. Cain and A.W. Moore. (A.W. Moore's collection.)


Back index next

Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received The Editor
HTML Transcription © F.Coakley , 2002