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QUOI yinnagh e hreisht ayns ooashley ny phooar,
Ayns aegid ny aalid, ny ayns kynney vooar ?
Son troo, farg as eulys ver mow dooinney erbee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
V'ou dty Resouyr Vannin, ard-ghooinney ny cheerey,
V'ou goit son dooinney seyr as dooinney creeney,
As jeh dty ghellal vie cha row shin rieau skee ;
Nish dty vaase Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree.
V'ou laue-yesh yn eearley, as sooill-yesh y theay ;
Shen hug dty noidyn gatt wheesh dy'oi ayns feoh.
She troo, farg as eulys ver mow dooinney erbee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Aalin va dty state-hallooin va ec Runnysvie
Eunysagh va dty gharey as ooasle dty hie.
She troo, farg as goanlys ver mow dooinney erbee ;
Son dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
V'ad gra dy daink screeuyn dy choyrt oo dy baase,
Lesh feanishyn foalsey va follym dy'n ghrayse ;
Va yn ving feer agglagh dy belgn dt' aggail mooie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Nagh dooar clein Cholcad nyn drogh aigney hene,
Tra hooar ad nyn oorey, yn gloyr clien Christeen ?
She troo, farg as goanlys ver mow dooinney erbee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
She ad va ny vaarderee as ny gheiney foalley,
Hug ad saynt da Runnysvie, myr role da Logh Molley ;
Er garey-feeyney Naboth va'd kinjagh cloie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Nagh burrys-enn dooinney nagh hoill eshyn baase ?
Son fer hug laue ayns fuill, cha fiow eh rleau grayse ;
Agh fioghey as creen, myr y banglane wuigh ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Gow dys yn Vannister ny Cailleeyn-ghoo;
As eie son clein Cholcad derrey vrisheys dty ghoo ;
Ta'n ennym shen caillit v'euish, Vanninee ghooie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Son bleeantyn ny vartyr va Robin ny lhie,
She boirey ny cruinney, v'eh chouds v'eh dy mie ;
E chaarjyn as naboonyn jeh eshyn va skee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Gow Richard lhuingys, dt' uill er e laue,
Agh she Fer-ny-cairal heose hug meeiteil daue ;
Yn tonn cha d'ymmyrk eh, hie fo eh aynjee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
As nish raad ta rass ny cass jeusyn er-mayrn,
T'ad myr y ghress ghonnagh, ny myr yn onnane ;
Dy chleiy fo nyn naboonyn v'ad dy sheer chloie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Dy shooyllagh oo Mannin, cha gluin oo fer gaccan,
Ny keayney yn ennym va keayrt ayns Beemachan;
Agh keeadyn dy voghtyn ta goltooan as gwee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Gow dys ny Cregganyn, ny dys yn Valla-logh,
Cha vow fer jeh'n ennvm shen jir rhyt "cheet-stiagh"
Ec joarreeyn ta nyn dhieyn nyn dhalloo, as nhee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Scarleod vooar verchagh ta heese ec y trale,
Ta ny staigyn-ronney ec fadaneys feeaihee,
Yn etrey voght tayrnit sheese, nagh vow greme dy ee ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Ny dunveryn foalley ren eshyn y strole,
V'ad shelgit lesh noidyn, ghewil, ghastey as cheoie,
Son cha row fer jell rieau hooar yn vaase cooie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Myrgeddin ny dunvern hug Illiam Dhone mow,
Nyn dhieyn, nyn dhalloo, as nyn ennyn ren loau ;
Son lheie ad ersooyl, myr lheeah-rio ny hoie ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Agh neem's mee hene gherjagh, lesh mooads my
hreishteil
Dy valkym banglane my greih ny hole ayns y whaiyl,
Coyrt sneih er e noidyn, lesh ooardrail y ree ;
As dty vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Son keayrt dreamal ren mish er y chreg my lhie,
Dy sluight Illiam Dhone beagh ayns Runnysvie,
E noldyn ghewil castit, as eh-hene ec shee,
As clein Christeen gennal, as siane ec nyn gree.
Da fir-choyrlee foalsey ayns agglish ny theay,
Ver cummaltee Vannin slane dwoaie as feoh,
Coyrt caarjyn bunryskyn, as brlshey nyn shee ;
As dy vaase, Illiam Dhone, te brishey nyn gree !
Chiarn ooasle yn Ellan, eer Athol Ghraysoil,
T'ad dolley as moiley, lesh foalsaght nyn govrle,
Yn ard-chlagh chorneilagh jeh'n thie vooar y strole,
T'ad noidyn da Mannln, yn Chiarn as y Ree.
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WHO would put his trust in honour or in power,
In youth or in beauty, or in great kindred ?
For envy, rage and malice will destroy any man;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that
breaks our heart!
Thou was Man's Receiver, head-man of the land,
Thou wast esteemed a man both gentle and wise,
And of thy good dealing we were never tired ;
Now thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart!
Thou wast the earl's right hand, the people's right eye
;
That's what made thy foes rise in rage against thee.
'Tis envy, rage and malice will destroy any man;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Beautiful was thy estate that was at Ronaldsway,
Delightful thy garden and noble thy house.
Tis envy, rage and malice will destroy any man;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart!
They said that letters came to put thee to death,
With false witnesses who were devoid of grace;
The jury was frightened t'would be forc'd to condemn;*
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Did not the clan Colcad gain their own bad will,
When they got their desire, clan Christeen's glory ?
'Tis envy, rage and malice will destroy any man ;
For thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart!
They were the adulterous and lustful men, who
Longed for Ronaldsway, as before for Logh Molley ;
At Naboth's vineyard they were constantly playing;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Is it not well known that he did not deserve death ?
For who puts hand in blood, he'll never get grace;
But withered and dry, like a yellow branch;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Go to the Nunnery of the black-robed nuns,
And call for Clan Colcad until thy voice breaks ;
That name is lost from you, ye native Manxmen ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
For years and years Robin, a cripple, did lie,
Who troubled the country, long as he was well;
His friends and his neighbours of him were wearied;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Richard took ship, having thy blood on his hand;
But the just one above encountered them there;
The wave would not bear him, he went under there;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
And now where a root or a branch of them remains,
The're like the prickly briar, or like the thistle;
To undermine their neighbours was their constant game ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
If thou walkest through Man, thou'd not hear one
complain,
Nor mourn o'er the name that was in Beemachan ;
But hundreds of poor folk who curse it and revile ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Go unto the Creggans,* or to the Balla-lough,*
There's no man of that name will say thee " come in " ;
Strangers have their houses, their land, and their all;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Great wealthy Scarlet'` is down at the shore,
Its choicest portions are a wild desolation} ;
The poor cast,' down heir has not a scrap to eat ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
The bloody murderers that did destroy him,
They were hunted by foes, fierce, aclive and raging,
Not a man of them e'er saw a natural death ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Likewise the murderers that destroyed Illiam Dhone,
Their houses, their land, and their names passed away§
;
For they melted away, like hoarfrost at night ;
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
But I'll solace myself with my trust's greatness,
That I'll see my love's scion sitting in the court,+
Punishing his enemies, by order of the king !
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
For I had a dream once, lying on the rock,
That Illiam Dhone's offspring should be in Ronaldsway,
His cruel foes subdued and himself at peace,
And the clan Christeen joyful, whole at their heart.
To the counsellors false, in Church or in State,
Bear the people of Mannin both hate and loathing ;
They put friends in confusion and break up our peace,
And thy death, Illiam Dhone, 'tis that breaks our heart
!
Noble Lord of the Isle, gracious Athol,
They blind and deceive with their untrue counsel,
The chief corner stone of his big house to destroy,
They are foes to Mannin, the lord, and the king.
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