[From A Poetical Guide to the Isle of Mann, 1832]
Some will complain we have too little wood.
'Tis very true; but all things else are good.
Our isle is capable of ev'ry grace,
And if well planted it would change its face.
The hill and dale variety is sweet,
Which tourists may enjoy if not too fleet,
To know it well the trav'ller must take time.
Some hurry o'er it as it were a crime
To look about them, and then baste away
Nay some have come and gone in one short day.
Some set out first from Douglas as the centre,
And on to Castletown they quickly canter ;
Here they explore the Castle and the clock,
And wonder at the limestone in the rock.
They then as quickly scud away to Peele,
With scarcely time to take a decent meal ;
To Ramsay next they glide, and see a deal
Thus ends their tour, and back again they go.
To make it shorter still, I would in two
Days skip it-nay, in one I'd run it through.
But were I on a visit to the Isle,
I'll shew you how I'd pass away the while.
From Douglas I'd set out with party gay,
Early from the Hotel upon the quay,
Or Hanby's liv'ry stables on parade,
Where prance the studs, in order well array'd.
Drive o'er the bridge and pass the Nunnery,
And the new castle and the gardens see.
How fine the walls and old plantations look
The snug retreat of many an old rook.
The beauties of the spot excite a smile,
Whilst travellers will think and talk the while.
Proceeding onward pass on the left hand,
The only Roman chapel in the land.
Onward still drive, and down and up again,
And Middle Cottage reach with slacken'd rein;
A sweeter spot expect to see in vain.
All dasied, tulipp'd, sweetbriar'd, rosied, gay,
Quite above praise or all the muse can say,
Slowly ascend the gently sloping hill, .
And'bate the force of gen'rous steeds until
The top you've gain'd-then round about you look,
And see more beauties than are in my book.-
Then down the vale your chariot may glide,
While you enjoy a rural prospect wide.
Now onward drive up Richmond steep, while slow
Against th' opposing bank your coursers go.
On th' left is Hampton, fam'd for learned lore:1
There Stowell liv'd-but he lives there no more.
Still farther on the right bleat. Newtown lies
The trav'ller 'mid the trees the dwelling spies ;
A fair tall mansion-on a steril soil,
Where husbandmen in vain may sweat and toil.
Thence in the distance Santon Church appears,
And its small steeple on the sea coast rears.
Before you now lies Ballasalla village,
A place obscure, with some degree of tillage.
The Abbey towers here in ruin lie,
Where pious vot'ries pray'd in days gone by;
Where nuns and friars sinn'd and counted beads,
And some of Mona's kings repose their heads.
Still farther on are villas neat though small:
And farther still, a tower upon a wall.
The Creggans are in culture by a maid;-
A farm extensive, and the fields well laid
In corn and pasture. Many a rood
The lands extend : the soil is very good.
Next you arrive at Castletown. The gray
Towers of old Rushen awe you I dare say,
And yet ye saw them far upon the way.
St. Mary's Chapel rises o'er the rocks,
Its fine and handsome architecture mocks
All later buildings, save the recent spires
Of Welch, the scientific, who aspires
To rival all contemporaries ;-a spark
That lately plann'd the church in Toxteth Park ;
And better still-let merry Manksmen laugh,
Lezayre and Douglas, Onchan and Ballaugh,
Who won the prize of Birmingham Town Hall -
A pile antiques a Grecian temple call.
But Rushen Castle claims your admiration,
As the first Gothic structure of the nation,2
Where Danes made war in feudal states, but now
'Tis put to use more rational I trow..
The fortress is a prison, where the courts
And Office of the Rolls are kept. reports
Of cases and of precedents ;- records
Of peasants, menials, yeomen, up to lords.
Next to this Castle is the House of Keys:
Farther 'tis needless haunts of law to trace.
'Tis here that female fashion holds her court,
At Gelling's on Parade. 'Tis the resort
Of gentle nymphs. The eye of beauty roves
O'er pictures, satins, ribands, books, and gloves.
Should you desire a luncheon, now 'tis e'en,
you'll find no cook can please like Mrs. Kn-n.
And while you wait for pie, beefsteak, or stew,
Just take a stroll as far as Kirkmalew.
And as you go along yoa'll have a view
Of various scatter'd houses here and there
Cleanly and neat you'll find them every where.
The verdure of the fields is fresh to see,
Near limekilns situate and weed o'th' sea.
The soil is excellent and yields much food,
The population is two thousand good
O'th town and its environs. Balladoole
In the west distance stands all bleak and cool,
As from the sea arising. Turn your eye
Northwest and view the spruce Kirkarbory,
With dwellings decent standing in a row
Like Algiers sloping, and as white as snow.
When lunch'd, yoke horses and straight take your ride
To Port le Marie. If you've time to bide
The gentle eve, and mark the shadows fall,
Prolong your devious way along Strandhall.
Before you lies a wide and fertile view,
Where all the prosp'rous signs of wealth accrue,
Where industry and skill and wealth combine
To gather all the treasures of the mine.
Exports and imports fatten all the strand,
A place of commerce, and the kindliest land;
Where bankers, brewers, farmers flourish wide,
Rich in possession, nor disgrac'd by pride.
Mountgawne, Kentraugh, fam'd for their gen'rous lord,
Whose hearty welcome cheers the social board.
Then Ballagawne and Ballarhurry view,
Ancient themselves, their inmates gentle too.
But would you see the wonders of the Coast,
Explore the craggy shore and preicpices most;
Gaunt Spanish head,-the chasms in the rock,-
Terrific sights that nervous trav'llers shock ;
But which the amateur of nature loves,
As he o'er earth in search of wonders roves.
These curious things the peasants will point out,
As on your path you take your daily route
The chasms of Craignish crag they all well know,
And glad will shew you the dire depths below.
Doubtless the earthquake once made havoc here,
Since lead and copper stores beneath appear.
Circles of stones suggest that druids once
Did worship here-but this may be romance
'Tis possible some popish saint of old
Heaven to conciliate chose this fearful hold,
Like hermit Bushel who was cell'd i'th' calf,
As frightful quite-more arduous by half.
Barrows abound hence on to Castletown
That call'd the fairy hill is the most known,
Near Ballachurry ; 'tis an earthen cone.
Some say the corpse of Reginald lies there,
Who fell in combat with the knight Ivar.
Throughout the land such little mounds arise,
Places of worship where men wail'd their vice,
Ere they could raise large temples, or regard
Such stately churches as are built by Ward
Those little kirks the strolling monks did serve
Ere Manksmen from the pope began to swerve,
A few miles circuit by Porterin Bay
And mines of Brada-and the whole long day
Most pleasantly you'll spend. Return 'long shore,
You'll see black marble quarries, which of yore
St. Paul's cathedral grac'd. Sir Christopher
Could not well finish till he'd sent afar
To little Mona dear for Poolvash stone
This honor claims this obscure island 'lone,
Yet here awhile delay-a spring arises
From the saltrock which chemic science prizes,
Its latent virtues have not yet been tried
The great discovery were one of pride
To some learn'd analyzer, and will give
Some gain to those who do by simples live
When you to Castletown return,
You will have little cause to mourn
The day departed. You will find
The host and hostess very kind.
But just before you go to feast,
Walk out a mile towards the east:
There Derbyhaven lies-a port
Distinguished by its little fort,
And to encrease your stock of knowledge,
Take a view of the New College.
Where on a bleak and sandy shore
It rises-while its friends deplore
The forest plants that all must wither,
Blasted by the wind and weather.
Here ends the day. Now go and sup ;
Be temp'rate to be early up.
Compose yourself and go to sleep,
And rise next morning at the peep
O' day. The earlier you go
The more you'll see-the more you'll know.
Now yoke your quadrupeds and off to Pile;3
Your road is good though mountainous. A mile
Of level road leads on to Kirkmalew,
While all along you take a sidelong view.
A little onward, limestone kilns in flame
Attract attention-for they have a name
Both north and south. Hence carts from all parts draw
Manure for corn for men, for cattle straw.
The steep ascent your able horses climb
With panting breath, hard pull, and active limb.
When on Baroole arriv'd; turn round and view
.A scene extensive, beautiful and new.
Now forward drive, the easy ride enjoy,
While you are borne between the earth and sky.
On a smooth road of granite white, well laid,
Macadamiz'd and firm and convex made. .
Drive on at length until at level end
Your vehicle commences to descend.
Here a wide scene of hill and dale salutes
Your eye, while on the willing wheel volutes
Beneath in vale 'rnid rugged rubbish see
The evolutions of machinery.
Up the long glen as far as kens the eye,
Mines of lead ore do many a wretch supply
With hard earn'd provender from the cold earth
Which gives to greedy Mammon sordid birth.
Move deftly forward,-on the left you'll see
A cataract descend all silvery.
And now you leave the dale and travel on
Until you see the Chapel of St. John,
With bells, two painted, and a tinkling one.
Here Tynwald Hill attracts your transient glance,
With veneration to the ground advance
Here are the laws promulg'd. Behold that mound
Which oft' has been with jurisprudence crown'd ;
Of sage grave senators, who in a row
From the three bells up the green platform go.
But this to see, attend when a new law
Is thence promulgated without a flaw.
Here why delay ?-all your fine views are o'er,
Unless you see the beautiful Glenmoore
Which lies beyond upon the river's side,
Whose stream flows westward rapidly and wide
Take then the road to Peele upon the left,
Nor grudge that yon of prospects are bereft.
The prettiest slope of highland scene survey
Along the hills upon St. Patrick's way.
There flows the river straying serpentine
Through a green-wooded varied country fine:
Afar the Monument of Wives 4 you see,
Erected as a landmark o'er the sea.
And now you come to Peele - turn and look down
Upon an ancient but deserted town-
Deserted by the commerce of the rest,
This once fair ornament of Mona west.
Its Castle's ruins still invite the wise,
For there earth's glory in vile ruin lies:
Here stands the Pile upon the solid stone,
Where once a holy prelate held his throne,
lklona's cathedral, tow'rs and churches too
Within these walls where howl'd the Munthe dhoo,
The trade of Peele is cod and haddock fry,
And of fat herrings there's a large supply.
Th' inhabitants are near two thousand souls,
For whom the clear ton'd bell of German tolls.
Along the shores are caves and caverns drear,
Which well to know ye must yourselves be there;
And if for pebbles you have any taste,
Search on the sands, and do not be in haste.
Agates, cornelians, has this shore produc'd,
Which, as bright gems, have gentle ladies us'd.
After you've glean'd the novelties of Peele,
And ta'en at Grant's your lunch or hearty meal,
Let coachee drive you southward to Glenmoij,
Provided sky be clear and earth be dry.
Over the bridge with arch of ivy gay,
You take your easy comfortable way.
Before you woods and gardens picturesque,
The Raogut farm and Corrin's obelisk,
The groves of Ballamoore 5 attract the eye.
And Gelling's place on the hill side so high.
St. Patrick's Church you pass on the left hand,
The right presents Knockaloe's marshy land:
Now forward drive adown the steep, and then
Pursue the rural way to the fam'd glen,
Where you will see a chrystal waterfall,
A murm'ring stream descending o'er a wall
Of massy rock, some few odd feet in height;
The scenery around inspires delight,
All vary'd green with ivy, underwood,
And waving trees. But if you've time, you should
Protract two miles your pleasant evening ride
Through verdant Dalby by the long sea side.
There see the Monument of Wives again ;
It well adorns the margin of the main.
In front see Brada and the Calf afar
Rise o'er the bay--so smooth, old Neptune's car
Might glide-so beauteous is the marine view,
The waves all silver'd azure, and so blue,
The lofty distant mountans' hazy hue.
The awful grandeur the wild crags among,
And precipices fearful all along,
Would take a longer time the whole t' explore,
With the antiquities along the shore.
In a recess where an old chapel stood,
The burying place of true Manks royal blood
Arrests the eye. If now you cannot stay,
Forget not to attend some future day.
Meanwhile the shadows lengthen, buckle to:
Return by Patrick to the right, and go
You'll get to Douglas yet before midnight.
First gallant Ballamone[sic Ballamore] attracts your sight;
The antient residence of a manks knight,-
The only titled manksman, Sir George hight.
Here flourish'd he for years in brilliant style,
Belov'd, respected, and renown'd the while.
His place he beautified where woods arise,
The planting of his hand, which far outvies
All else i'th' island-none else there can vie,-
It bears the stamp of noble ancestry,
A gentle race and kind, whom heaven shield !
Where black rooks caw, and cooing ring doves build,
Before you on the right the vicarage
Of gay St. Patrick rises; but old age
Has in that manse outliv'd vain fashion's rage.
Yet fruitful orchards and fair fertile fields
To the incumbent a snug living yields,
While he on all sides views the verdant groves
Of all his neighbours, and a river roves
Beneath his garden-a soft murm'ring stream,
Where he may angle, or where he may dream'.
A little on you view the mansion fair
Of Ballacosnaha the debonnnaire;
Slopes the smooth lawn, and graceful wave the trees,
Where the fair owner vcgctates at ease.
Still farther on appears a Villa gay-
The neatest thing you've seen the live-long day ;
True taste and elegance there lead the way.
It is a tranquil and a sweet retreat,
Where smiling loves upon the graces wait.
Thence onward rises many a roomy house,
Where farmers' bacon hang, and oft' carouse.
The shades of night come on apace, and you
Would better guard you from the nightly dew.
Drive back to Douglas, and another day
I'll tell what you may see, and I can say.
This morn " the curtains of your eyes advance "
For views more pleasant than they have in France.
If you to Ramsey would desire to go,
'Twere better by two ways than one, you know,
To go and come. The road by Bishop's Court,
Kirk Michael-then round Laxey-a retort!
But 'tis first requisite to trace our way
By slow degrees, or else what can we say
Of objects as we pass them all the day ?
First on the right is Vernon's little mount.
Next comes a place of beauties beyond count
A gothic structure on a verdant slope,
With walks, plantations, and the air of hope,
Youthful and joyous-smiling to invite
The passing stranger to a pleasant sight.
Next see proud Kirby rising on the hill,
With new verandah to exhibit skill.
Then pass the woods of Braddan and its rills,
Until you come to the new Union Milns.
Here englishmen make broadcloth, without strife,
Receive their wages and enjoy their life.
Fair views are on the right and left along,
Though few deserve the tribute of a song
Sweet Ballafreer high-bosom'd in a wood,
And eke another building new and good
On the same property along the way
Just eye then: as yo pass in fair array.
In the wide distance see the little church,6
And Dunlop's Ellerslie left in the lurch.
The handsome farm and mansion in the vale 7
Well wooded scorns the tempest and the gale,
Environ'd with rich gardens, trees, a lawn-
Pleasing to visit at the early dawn.
Behind it to the westward, a retreat
Where nature smiles enthron'd in rural state ;
A glen well planted with umbrageous trees,
A sweet recess that no intruder sees,
Save such as are permitted to partake
Of the chaste pleasures of the peaceful lake,
On whose green margin wave the feath'ry firs,
And whose smooth bosom scarce a ripple stirs,
Save when the trout, to tell that he's alive,
Starts up and plunges with a sudden dive.
Drive on :-you come to Eyreton's gothic towers,
And on the left a cottage neat with bowers,
Where roses, eglantines, and laurels gay
Grow wild, and ev'ry passing month is May.
And now you view old Greebah's craggy snoud-
A mountain boundary,8 oft' capp'd with cloud.
But ere you leave the parish, cast a look
At holy Trinion's ruins, in a nook
Of' rural beauty. Hard by flows a brook,
When th' other side of Greebah, look on high,
And see W. . . K.... almost in the sky!
There from the rock he eyes you as you go,
Looks down upon you and the world below.
Content to live within his cottage neat,
Distant from care or call from small or great;
Yet those who visit find him ever gay,
And kind and courteous in a friendly way,
When further on omit not to admire
The verdant Northop clad in soft attire
Of foliage beautiful, and level lawn,
Where flocks do browze on dewy grass at dawn.
The woods of Greebah and the various farms
On both sides of the dale-the house 9 that swarms
With devots happy of a pious race,
Whose sleek religion beameth from their face,
Are all among the beauties of the place!
Then pass an avenue of trees--a throng
Of birds salute you with their song.
Leaving this place of gardens, 10 on the right-
A thrm productive, pleasing to the sight
Roll on to Ballacraine 11 your vehicle,
While on the left you see the woods of Gell 12
And straight before of mountain farms your fill.
Here 'bate your gen'rous horses of their load,
That they the lighter may pursue the road ;
Allow them provender and then proceed
With greater ease and all convenient speed.
Where four ways meet, turn to the right up hill,
And dawn the vale of steep Craig Willy Sill ;
'I here a slow, sullen riv'let takes its route,
Where poachers oft' ensnare the spotted trout.
Move on along a wild romantic glen,
Between two barren Alpine hills, and then
A steep ascent you climb. Here walk the while
And spare the panting steeds. The time beguile
With various converse till you've gain'd the steep,
About one half-a-mile beyond,- a peep
Of the long northern coast and northern land
You have. Move On. You need not stand ;
For as you go but a few miles down hill,
Your view still widens, and enhances still.
Clyeen, a pretty spot on high looks down
On snug Cronk Urley which the graces crown
With foliage; thence view the spacious bay,
A prospect sweet on a fine summer's day.
The Courthouse next you pass, rais'd on the plan
Of a late bishop 13 of the Isle of Mann.
Proceed thence forward, if ye'bate not here
At Gee's14 whose wonted charges are not dear,
Kirk Michael and its village now are near.
One mile-a little mile, and you arrive
At Bishop's Court-a very pleasant drive.
Lo! there a holy and a calm retreat,
Once the abode of pious Wilson great,
And since of noble Murray, who improv'd
This sweet retirement which the prelate lov'd.
The avenues, the walks, the gardens, glens,
He garnish'd, beautifi'd,-without amends!
Here 'light and look about the grounds awhile,
The present lord will greet you with a smile
A mile still farther on, Ballaugh appears,
And there in novel style the new Church rears
Its tower'd head. You go on straight before;
Fine views you've had, and now you shall have more.
Cronkould arises on the right, and proves
How man will cultivate the place he loves.
The country wide before you flat and fine,
Is worthy admiration, I opine.
Lo as you sweep o'er the north-going road,
And mark each farmer's and each gent's abode,
At the long mountain's head a quarry view,
And on the left a country much like Kew.
The richest region breathing the manks air .
Is the green-wooded parish of Lezayre.
Corilbane arises near the king's highway,
A place of evergreens and orchards gay.
Next to the right to Ballabrooie 15 appears;
And on the river a small miln your ears
Annoys with its provoking clack and wheel,
If you be thin-skinn'd it will make you feel.
On left is Kella ; to the right the Grange,
Near which is Primrose hill, whence a wide range
Of most delightful prospect, new and strange.
Pursue your road and see the snug Bellevue,
Than which more pretty spots there are but few.
Next Ballamona with its shelt'ry wood,
And Ellanbane producing grain for food.
Of pure complasence, and the hour beguile.
Lo ! steep Glendhû arises, wide and fair,
'Mid rich plantations-a young forest rare,
Extending to Glentrammon, on the side
Of the same hill; and in the distance wide,
Loughaneyeij th' improving farmer's pride.
Next you approach the parish kirk, beneath
The fringed hill all verdant like a wreath.
See on the left Keeilingan's waving grove,
And on the right its rows of larch above.,
Turn Sky hill steep and bless your curious view
With Milntown's tow'rs unique, strong built, and new;
When pass'd, look back-the front a castle spews,
Antique, and white, to imitate the snows.
Down to the left afar, the country o'er
Cast your exploring eye-then look before.-
Observe the town of Ramsey and its bay,
And view its fine environs-the next day.
That you'll forget yourself asleep don't fear;
St. Paul's loud iron tongue will strike your ear,
And bid you for your early walk prepare,
And sense regale in the sweet morning air.
The quay is little worthy your attention,
As there's no shipping which deserves a mention.
The little harbour where old Sulby runs,
Admits no burthen 'bove one hundred tons.
The pier is tolerable and the lighthouse,
Whose lamp does not flame glaringly to fright us.
The exports of this place are chiefly grain;
Which well stor'd barks waft o'er the hea'vin'g main.
Excepting lime and coals and herring boats,
There's no import worth making any notes.
Here scaly keels the wint'ry surges mock,
Lying in harbour, moor'd as in' a dock.
But now 'tis time when you have ate your fill
At Heelis's, to walk up Ballure hill ;
Look down and view beneath blythe Ramsey town,
The weekly mart of many a north-side clown,
Its 'habitants are fifteen hundred souls,
By the last census on the british rolls.
Its courthouse elegant, all strangers see,
Who may hear causes without cost or fee,
And where on ball nights they may dance with glee.
Far is the distant prospect wide and grand,
To Ayre's lone point along the yellow strand,
Where stands the lighthouse with its red-blue glare,
Imparting caution through the midnight air,
Now see the barks that skim the azure tide,
Where craft of all kinds pass in floating pride ;
And look beyond : the distance brings to view
Fair Scotia's hills and Cumberland's so blue.
Repress your glance, call home your roaming eye,
And see Claughbane's 16 fair grounds beneath you lie.
The foliage of forest green, and gay
Its gardens, orchards, and its winding way.
Thick planted and retir'd in sweet seclusion,
And plentiful in its own rich profusion ;
The manse antique, a snug and sweet retreat,
Where old manks grandeur once kept rural state;
And now its lord and eke his gentle dame
Present such cheer as still supports its fame.
Trace back your devious rural path, and then
Loiter awhile in Ballure's shady glen,
Beyond the bridge proceed along the hill,
A fairy scene, close by a gargling rill.
Admire the walks around that quiet spot,
Where in the wonted season many a shot
At cock and partridge and wild birds is fir'd,
And many a verse is by the muse inspir'd.
Another day will serve you to explore
The curiosities of Maughold shore ;
Its bold, abrupt, and awe-inspiring height,
Its rocks, its well, and ev'ry fearful sight
Which Maughold head presents. The fane
Stands just behind the solitary shore,
Where in the dreary distance surges roar;
The space within the consecrated ground,
Once the sole sanctuary in Mona found.
For fonts and crosses et id genus omne,
See grave researches of the learned Dom'ny. 17
Two sweet seelusions we have left behind,
With scenes romantic for the musing mind
These are Glenaalin and steep Sulby glen;
Such rural beauties are beyond my pen.
In each of these a day were not misspent;
And when you view them, be it not in Lent,
But form a social party at pie nic ;
At squeamish niceties you will not stick,
Nor care for tables laid in formal style,
Where nature's charms unite to make you smiles
On her soft lap with wildest flowrets crown'd,
Recline, while falling waters murmur round.
Another and another beauteous scene
O'er Mona's lovely isle are found, I ween,
If time allow not farther North to ride
To see fair fertile Andrea's and St. Bride,
And their fine spacious plains in all their pride;
Some other day appoint: yet surely these
Are worth the notice of whoever sees.
And so are Jurby and Ballaugh so level-
Where farmers on rich produce feast and revel.
We must not yet forget old Ballamooar, 18
For rooks renown'd, and likewise for its store
Of wheat, oats, barley-where are wavy woods
And stagnant marshes and perennial floods,
(Over black bogs and trunks of prostrate trees)
Which flow in winter like so many seas.
Then wealthy Ballacaine, the Curragh 19 call'd,
Where fine fat oxen feed and beeves are stall'd.
Both north and south. No man of taste can pass
Unvisited the falls of fair Rheinass, 20 .
Or yet the fairy haunts of Ballaghlass. 21
This large rich farm extends through fertile grounds,
Where marle-manure-productive marle abounds;
Where scores of acres nod with crops of wheat,
And lib'ral cheer invites and farmers eat.
Now you return the eastward route to town,
Steep is the road, and zig-zag up and down.
First as ye slow ascend the hill of Lewaige, 22
Observe the bay ;-along the coast each craig
And gentle villa; Stepney's sweet abode,
Which lies below the high and craggy road.
Then stretch your broad eye over Maughold plain,
Where verdant beauty reigns in fields of grain.
Rich and romantic is this ample space,
A kindly soil with a most kindly face.
Beyond, how grand the sea !-its waves unfold
One wide expansive sheet of glass and gold.
At Laxey village 'light, your horses feed,
That ~e may with the greater ease proceed,
And, when the road admits it, greater speed.
Meanwhile, a short excursion up the glen,
Along the stream about a mile, and then
The mines invite your footsteps up the hill,
While in the neighbourhood a paper mill
Your notice claims. From foot of Sniall
Look down and be delighted with the fall
Of mountain river flowing down the dale ;
Until returning, you retrace the vale.
To the small harbour of a spacious bay
Next take your musing contemplative way
Here herring boats are wont to come in shoals,
And smacks arrive from Whitehaven with coals.
Whate'er in short the commerce or the trade,
It is but small, and 't were a dull tirade
To say the most o't. Leave this rugged place,
And tow'rd the town of Douglas turn your face;
And as you go, enjoy the rural view,
Then to the country bid a kind adieu.
There's nothing worthy your attention now,
Until you come in sight of Ball'nahowe.
This side the steep arises a fine spire,
Which ev'ry man of taste must aye admire;
Thence along shore your distant view extend,
And beautiful it is to the bay end.
Drive to the right and mark the villa neat
or antient Bemahague the deemster's seat,
Unique in fashion-of commodious size-
Around it pleasure ;rounds-a paradise !
Next is Glencruttery a modest manse
And handsome. Make your quadrupeds advance,
And down upon the plains of Port y chee
Fix your exploring and delighted e'e ;
Then to the town, your goal, proceed at leisure,
And ev'ry object which you see gives pleasure,
As by the Quarter-bridge you sweep along.
Here ends at length the burden of my song.
1 An Academy.
2 Style of the 15th century.
3 See page 10.
4 A castellated edifice, erected by Mr. Corrin, of Knockaloe, in honor of his deceased wife, whose tomb lies in a cemetery neat its base
5 Moore's Place.
7 Ballaquinney mooar.
8 Between Marown and German.
9 Meeting House.
10 Kenad, or the source of streams.
11 Craine's place, an Inn..
12 Ballaganaghyn, i, e. Boayllny garaghyn.
15 Anglice, the place of River banks.
16 Anglice, the White Stone.
17 Transactions of the Society of Scottish Antiquarians, for 1822, part 2.
18 The Great Place.
19 Anglice Peat Bog.
20 The South Division,
21 The Green Place.
22 Pron. League.
Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received
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