[From Manxiana, 1870]
Beautiful Isle ! Isle of the Sea !
Gem of the Ocean! Land of the Free!
Free in thy government, people, and laws;
Thy Tynwald proclaims thee in Liberty's cause.
Where Lancashire witches and Cumberland folks
Come o'er for the Summer, to hear and crack jokes ;
All crowding thy towns and filling thy fields
With life, and whatever such life in them yields.
'Tis the life of the artist, true artizan named
By Macaulay, the historian for truthfulness famed.
God's workers ye are in coal, iron, and lead,
Down deep in the mines ye toil for your bread.
True noblemen ye, of Divinity's stamp,
Conquering heroes 'midst fire's deadly damp.
Oh, welcome ye are to Mona's fair Isle,
"She we'comes ye all with a cheer and a smile.
'Free range ye have here o'er mountain and plain;
Free fishing is here for gentle and swain ;
Free roads, well laid out, and free from the pike;
Free all round the Isle, ye'll gang where ye like.
No taxes to pay, no danger to fear,
You can do what you will as Christian folks here.
'Tis all the Queen's Park the Queen of the Sea
Who holds her court here with nymph and fairie.
Then revel away as ye ride round her coast,
Unspoilt by a rail or telegraph post.
The sun is all glory on sea and on land,
O'erspreading his beauty on mountain and strand.
Ye can range up her Snaefell, and see out afar
The Rose and the Thistle and Erin-go-Bragh
Grow out of the sea, that reflects from on high
The Creation that's there, so fair to the eye.
Then can telescope take of Faith's crystal hue,
And see heaven open your High Priest in view,
Affectionately offer a home to you there,
Won alone by Himself, by work, blood and prayer.