[from Manx Ballads, 1896]




MARISH ny fiddleryn, ayns yn traa Nollick
Va hosiaght veeit mee graih my chree,
As hoie shin sheese graihagh cooidjagh,
Gow shin yn tosiaght jeh nyn hooree.

V’ee doodee aeg, bwoiee as aalin,
Va mee kiarail dy phoosee ee.
Ta mee yn eirinagh, mooar as berchagh,
Ayns lhiatteeyn glassey jeh’n shenn Renwee.

Voish yn oie shen gys kione three bleeaney,
Dy-mennick va mish as my graih meeiteil,
Yn ghlare v’ec foalsey, as chengey veeley,
Nagh jinnagh ee mish dy bragh ‘aagail.

My chree va gennal goll dys yn valley,
Cha row nhee erbee yinnagh seaghyn dooys;
Yn chied skeeayl cluinn mee moghrey Laa-ynnyd,
Dy row my graih rish fer elley phoost.


AMONG the fiddlers, at the Christmas time,
I first my own heart’s love did meet,
And we sat down together loving,
Making beginning of our courtship.

She was a young girl, fair and lovely,
I did incline to marry her.
I am a farmer, big and wealthy,
Upon the green sides of old Renwee.

From that ev’ning till three years were ended,
Full often did I and my own love meet,
False was her language, and her tongue ran smooth,
Declaring that she would ne’er me forsake.

My heart was happy going to the town,
There was not a thing that would give me pain;
The first news I heard on Ash-Wednesday morn,
Was that my love had another wed.


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