[From Manxiana, 1870]


'Tis built, and not too soon, I think,
For many hundred years o'er all the Isle,
In towns and villages along the shore,
On the wide Curragh, up among the hills,
Along the plains, and o'er the lonely moors,
High up by the valley of the Sulby stream,
Amongst the giant boulders on the base
Of Snaefell's rugged height — there wandered free
The Tom o' Bedlams of our Mona's isle;
The Peter Greys, and Bettys of the Drun,
Were everywhereoutraging decency,
In rags that made the nakedness more sad
Than Indian Fakeer of the Himalaya hills.
Now the Asylum's built, a noble pile,
A home for allwell worthy of the Isle.


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