[From Mona Miscellany second series Manx Soc vol 21]
By the Rev. J. L. PETIT.
MONA, farewell! the bark is manned,
To bear me to another strand,
And other scenes, and other skies,
By morns grey dawn must greet my eyes;
Yet shall my memory love to dwell
On the lone isle of rock and dell,
Chafed by the oceans whirling foam,
Within whose deep secluded home
The busy world is all unknown;
Or marked by distant peaks alone,
To him who haply gazes round,
From giant Sneafells topmost mound.
What time the mornings ruddy light,
Gleams fresh on Cronk-na-Ireys height,
When the brisk sea-breeze, clear and cool,
Sweeps oer the crest of bold Barrule,
And circling round Slieauwhallins falls,
The tutelary mist dispels.
If natures charm, and fancys thrill,
Can chase the spirits cheerless chill,
If records of the past can bear
Our minds from present scenes of care;
If the rude cross and sculptured stone
Brings visions of an age unknown,
If Peels grey towers and ruined walls
A wondrous train of saints recall;
If yet the fairy loves to dwell
On the green brink of Maugholds well,
O let me often roam again
Through thy brown heath and rugged glen.
Or list to Foxdales fitful roar,
Or wrapt in legendary lore.
Linger at eve and muse awhile
In Trinians dark and ruined aisle,
Where the stout tailor undismayed,
Throughout the twilights deepening shade,
In spite of goblin, fiend, or witch,
Plied boldly the creative stitch,
Een in the very face of him,
Whose spectral image, swart and grim,
Scares the lone wanderer on his path,
And heedless of his threatened wrath,
A neat habiliment began,
And finished, for the nether man;
Then fled unscathed, and refuge found,
Beyond the streamlets mystic bound.
But hark! I hear the warning bell,
Land of the rock and glen, farewell,
And if thy bard should tempt again,
The perils of the stormy main,
O let his welcome be as free
As that which he hath met from thee;
May kindly heart and friendly smile
Receive him back to Monas Isle.