[From Manx Ballads, 1896]

 MARRINYS YN TIGER.  

 THE VOYAGE OF THE TIGER.

REN deiney-seyrey Vannin,
Ayns yrjid, stayd as moyrn,
Nyn bingyn cheau dy-cheilley,
As chionnee ad shenn lhong.

Va ynnyd oc ayns Doolish,
As boaylyn er y cheer,
Raad cheau ad pingyn cooidjagh,
Dy chionnagh privateer.

Ny pingyn hie dys Sostyn,
Va ymmyd daue ayns shen,
Dy chionnaghey ‘n chenn " Tiger,"
‘S dy choyrt ee dys y cheayn.

Hie earn magh trooid yn Ellan
Son guillin jeh ynsagh-cheayn,
Ny guillin roie dy Ghollish,
Tra cheayll ad lheid y sheean.

Ayns sheshaghtyn v’ad chymsagh,
Cheet voish dagh ayrn jeh’n cheer,
Dys thie Nick Voore ayns Doolish,
Cha liauyr as grenadier.

She Qualtrough vees nyn gaptan,
As marish nee mayd goll.
As feiyr vooar hie fud Doolish,
Lesh lheirnmyraght as kiaull.

Caggee rnayd noi ny Frangee,
As noi America.
Ta guillin-vie ayns Mannin,
Nagh jean voish noid chyndaa.

Liorish nyn jebbyn aalin,
Ny guillin hayrn ad lhieu.
Ny eirinee va gyllagh
" Kys yiow mayd jeant yn traaue."

Va shoh daue ard oyr aggle,
Quoi eiyrtagh er y cheeaght;
Dy goan veagh guillin Vannin,
Son coltar chur fo chreagh.

Va Illiam vooar y Condray,
As dooinney vooar yn chronk,
Va’d gyllagh son ny guillin,
Va wheesh d’inneenyn oc.

O shuish inneenyn Vannin,
Ta dobberan ayns doo,
Gra, " nagh vel guillin faagit,
Agh paitchyn nagh vel feeu.

" Dy vel ad ooilley failt
Er boayrd yn phrivateer,
As scoan my ta wheesh faagit
As roshys fer er kiare.

" As tra nagh vel wheesh faagit
As roshys fer y pheesh,
Te foddey share ye follym,
Cha nee fer eddyr jees."

Giu as cloie er ny caartyn
Chum roinyn oie as laa,
Gra, " blebeeyn ny guillin
Nagh jed noi America."

Myr eginit hie mee maroo,
As hass mee seose dys gunn,
As kinjagh va mee dobberan,
Dy row my ghraih rey rhym.

Ny cheayrtyn va mee smooinaghtyn
Nagh vaikin ee dy braa,
As ceau my laghyn seaghnagh,
Ny lhie ayns baïe Rumsaa.

Three laa va shin er hiaulley,
Lesh doom faagail Rumsaa,
Tra veeit shin rish y sterrym,
Hug er yn eill ain craa.

Va deiney tooillit teaymey,
As guillin coayl nyn mree,
As Harry Voore va gyllagh,
" My ghuillin cum nyn cree."

Yn keayn va gatt as freaney,
Ve rastagh erskyn towse,
Yn chronnag ain va caillit,
Cha dod shin freayl nyn goorse.

Lurg da ye tammylt sheidey,
Yn sterrym reesht ghow fea;
As rosh shin shenn oie Ollick
Gys aker ayns Mount Bay.

Ec kione three laa reesht aarloo,
Eisht hie shin son y cheayn;
As veeit shin lhong voish Holland,
As ghow shin ee dooin hene.

Eisht haink shin thie dy Ghoolish,
Lesh gunneraght as kiaull,
As deiney-seyrey Vannin
Dy moyrnagh hairik nyn guaill,

Ga blaik lhieu fakin spooilley,
Va’d moyrnagh gyn resoon,
Loayrt baggyrtagh nyn oi ain
Dy choyrt shin ayns pryssoon.

Leah hoig shin dys nyn drimshey,
Lurg doom ve’r roshtyn thie,
Yn lhong va shin er hayrtyn,
Dy row ee goit noi ‘n leigh.

Dooyrt ad dy row’n chooish ain
Trieit feanish yn chiannooyrt,
As " cha vel briw ayns Mannin
Ne briwnys diu y choyrt.

" Nish gow shin reue dys Sostyn,
As meeit mayd shiu ayns shen,
As shooyl mayd riu er thalloo,
Ny shiauill mayd riu er keayn."

Agh ta mish nish ayns Mannin,
As vouesyn ta mee seyr;
Cha vod ad mee y lhiettal
Veih sheshaght my ghraih gheyr.

Shoh’n erree ghow’n chenn " Tiger,"
Va’n oyr jeh wheesh dy chiaull;
V’ee creckit jeh son toghyr,
Da’n lhong va shin er ghoaill.

Ga va shin sheshaght ghennal,
As trean ayns corp as cree,
Drogh choyrle as drogh leeideillee
Ver naardey cooish erbee.

Ta’n foul ta geiyrt da’n Vanninagh,
Oyr treihys fer-ny ghah,
Te’h creeney lurg laa’n vargee,
Agh s’beg vondeish te da.

O shiuish my gheiney cheerey
Ta geaishtagh rish m’arrane,
My choyrle te diu ye creeney,
Choud’s ta’n traa er-mayrn.

She’n chooish ta ooilley lhie er,
Dy ghoaill kiarail ayns traa,
Roish bee laa’n vargee harrish,
Nyn drimshey son dy braa.

THE gentlemen of Mona,
In grandeur, state and pride,
Their pennies threw together,
And purchased an old ship.

They had a place in Douglas,
And stations up country,
Where they threw pence together,
To buy a privateer.

The pennies went to England,
There was need for them there,
To purchase the old " Tiger,"
And to send her to sea.

A call went through the Island,
For lads with sea-knowledge,
The lads ran off to Douglas,
When they heard of this call.*

In companies they gathered,
Corning from every part,
To Nick Moore’s house in Douglas,
Tall as a grenadier.

Qualtrough shall be our captain,
And with him we will go.
A great noise went through Douglas,
With dancing and music.

We’ll fight against the Frenchmen,
And against America.
There are good lads in Manxland,
Who will not turn from foes.

By their enticing offers,
They drew the lads to them.
The farmers were crying out
" How shall we plough our land."

This thing they greatly dreaded,
That none ‘d follow the plough;
Scarce would be Manx lads to put
Coulter under furrow.

Big Will Condray there was, and
The big man of the hill,
Who were calling for young men,
They had so many girls.°

O ye daughters of Mona,
Who are mourning in black,
Saying " There are no lads left,
But boys of no account,

" That they all by them are hired
On board the privateer,
Scarcely are as many left,
As will reach one in four.

" When th’re not as many left,
As reach to one apiece,
‘Tis better to be without,
Than to have one ‘tween two."

Drinking and playing at cards,
Employed us night and day,
Saying " lads were fools who’d not
Go against America."

So compelled I went with them,
And stood up to a gun,
Incessantly bewailing,
That my love me’d forsake

At times I was thinking
I’d never see her more,
And spend my days so sadly,
Lying in Ramsey bay.

Three days we had been sailing,
After we’d left Ramsey,
When we meet with the tempest,
That made our flesh quiver.

Men were exhausted pumping,
And lads lost their pluck,
And Harry Moore was shouting,
" My lads keep up your hearts."

The sea was big and foaming,
Stormy beyond measure,
Our cross-tree fell overboard,*
We could not keep our course.

After a spell of blowing,
The storm again took rest;
On old Christmas Evef we came
To anchor in Mount Bay.

At three days’ end we’re ready
Again to go to sea;
We met a ship from Holland,
And took her for ourselves.

Then we came home to Douglas,
With shooting and music,
The gentlemen of Mona
To meet us proudly came.

Though they liked seeing plunder,
They were too proud, saying
Threat’ningly ‘gainst us that they
Would put us in prison.

We soon knew to our sorrow,
After we arrived home,
The ship that we had captur’d,
Was taken against the law.

They said that our case would be
Tried ‘fore the gov’nor, and
" There ‘s no judge in Man that will
A verdict give for you."

" Now go your way to England,
And we will meet you there,
And we will walk you on land,
Or will sail you on sea."

But I am now in Mannin,
And from them I am free;
Me they cannot hinder from
My dear love’s company.

What befell the old " Tiger,"
The cause of so much noise;
She was sold to pay the loss,*
The captured ship suffered.

Though we were a jovial crew,
Strong in body and pluck,
Bad advice and bad leaders
Will ruin any cause.

The fault that haunts the Manxman,
A cause of grief to most,
He one day after the fair ‘s
Wise, when it ‘s of no use.

O my countrymen who are
Listening to my song,
My advice to you is be wise,
As long as there ‘s time.

It is what all depends on,
The taking care in time,
Before the fair day ‘s over,
For regret lasts for aye.

* " Noise."

* " Marriageable daughters."
* " Would be freed from me."
* " was lost "
+ January 5th
* ‘ ‘ The dowry."

for background see Chap 8 of Manx Worthies; also Manx Soc vol XXI for a literal translation


 

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Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received The Editor
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