[From Manx Melodies, 1922]

PASSING OF THE FAYRIES

" AN' was there a dhrop between us? "
That's what they're sayin' still.
An' never a dhrop was there at all,
But a crowd of wans in the road for all,
An' sthrivin' up the hill.

The dawn was barely sthreakin'
An' a sup o' rain doin' in;
But liftin' as the day grew on,
Like dhryin' up when the night was gone,
With a scutch o' risin' win'.

An' here was these wans comin',
An' creepenin' up the side,
With a surt of murmurin', wailin', soun'
That seemed to be risin' all aroun',
Like the soun' of the weary tide.

There was oul', an' young, an' childher,
All bended under loads;
With beds an' crocks, an' spuds, an' grips,
An' spinnin' wheels, an' taller dips,
All filin' up the roads.

From Earey Beg an' Earey Moar,
Over the broken bridge;
Over the pairk at Earey Glass,
By Balla'himmin and up Rhenass,
An' all along the ridge.

An' toilin' up Bearey Mountain,
With that wailin', sighin' soun'
As if their hearts were goin' a-breakin',
The for their last leave they were takin',
Wherever they were boun'.

An' Bearey was roulin' his cloak,
An' reachin' it down his side,
An' coaxin' them up an' lappin' them roun',
Till the wailin' was dyin' gradjual down,
Like the calm of the ebbing tide.