A SORROWFUL DITTY ON THE DEATH OF HER
TWO SONS, the Rev. WILLIAM WALKER, LL.D., Vicar- General of the Diocese of Sodor and Mann, and Rector of Ballaugh ; and Mr. ROBERT TEAR of Douglas.
By WIDOW TEAR of Ballaugh.

WIDOW TEAR’S BALLAD ON HER TWO SONS,
Dr. WALKER AND ROBERT TEAR

Translated from the Manx by Mr. John Quirk of Carn-ny-Greie.

I.

ROISH my row mee rieau my voir,
Lmaynrey vaar mee eisht my hraa;
My chree gyn loght, my chione gyn feiyr,
My eddin lane dy vlaa.

II.

My aigney seyr veih laad chiarail,
Sthill aashagh oie as laa;
Agh nish my gherjagh ter valleil
My chree ta brisht dy braa.

III.

As tra ren mee my stayd chaghlaa,
Hug Jee dou bannaght cloan;
Hrog mee ad seose dy voddym ghra,
Nagh row nyn lheid agh goaun.

IV.

Ayns aggle yee lesh yusagh vie
Dy aalin as dy glen;
As yerk mee roo dy chooney lhiam,
Tra veign annoon as shenn.

V.

Dy insh jeh’n egin va mee ayn,
Troggal myr shoh my chloan;
Cha voddym scrieu’s te doillee ginsh,
Yn egIn shen lesh goan.

VI.

Arkys as seme ghow orrym grem~
Haink saggys gys my chree;
Ny-yeih cha daink my raad yn chrem,
Er-derrey daag ad mee.

VII.

Er yn edjag-sereenee Robbin va,
Ny vainshtyr ard ayns schleI;
As v’eshyn gaase dy chooilley laa,
Ny smoo ayns coontey sleih.

VIII.

Symbyl jehn yusagh vér e lane,
Daag eh ayns bane as doo;
Nee freayl e chooinaght fud sheeluane,
Er voalley ghial Cheeill-Chroo.

IX.

Illiam pessyn Cheeill Voirrey va,
Bochilley chiaralagh Chreest;
Laue yesh yn Aspick, sooil yesh y theay,
Brin ny Hagglish neésht.

X.

Bannaght ny moght, scaa ny mraane hreoghe,
Fendeillagh cloan gyn ayr;
Da ny hannoonee dreeym nagh goghe,
Veih tréanee ghewill aggair.

XI.

As ga dy row e churrym mooar,
Va e chreenaght corrym rish;
As er goo mie e hoilltyn hooar,
Cooyrt reeoil Hostyn fys.

XII.

Veih hooar eh ooashley’s ennyn noa
Ny mast ‘am joarree roie;
Lheid’s nagh dooar Manninagh bio,
As scoan hooar lheid ny-yeih.

XIII.

E hoilshey ren soilshean dy gial,
Trooid magh yn Ellan Slane;
E hampleyr skeaylley dy chooilley voayl,
E choyrle vie gys dagh ayrn.

XIV.

Gloyr Yee, as foays e helloo noo,
Va kinjagh e chiarail;
Biallagh gys e vochilley smoo,
As veih shen jerkal faill.

XV.

Myr va e hoilchyn ooilley mooar,
Mannagh beagh eh dy bragh er ye ny smoo;
Foast dreill eh yn leigh ayns pooar,
Hug lesh meereiltys gys toyrt-mow.

XVI.

Oyr vooar ta ec ny Manninee,
Lurg lheid yn charrey choe;
Son stiark ny vud oc ta lheid y chree
Dy reayll drogh-yannoo fo.

XVII.

Jeh Saggyrt Walker cooinagh vees,
Choud as ta Mannin ayn;
As ayraghyn trooid mooarane eash
Vees gnish jeh da nyn gloan.

XVIII.

Jhys hie eh seoise gys cooyrt y ree,
Noi ny kyndee brishey’n leigh;
As ghow eh voae ooilley nyn mree,
As hooar ad lhieggey veih.

XIX.

Quoi hyrmys eisht ny jeIr ta role,
Veih groinyn yn choiltane;
Keayney nyn mockill ghraihagh vie,
Nagh vel Öc nish er-mayrn.

XX.

Agh mish e voir tra smoo ayns feme,
Hie eli er searrey voym,
Troggit dy leah shagh harrish y cheim,
‘Sy Rollick hrimshagh hrome.

XXI.

Keayrt va mee maynrey ~yns my chloan,
Moir ghennal ren ad jeem;
Dreill ad erskyn feme my chione,
As vad sthill dou son dreeym.

XXII.

Nish ta mee coodit lesh slane ole,
Gyn soilshey dym hiar fly heear;
My chainle ta ass gyn saase erbee,
Dy gherjagh moir ny ayr.

XXIII.

Fo dorraghys doo, my aigney dooint,
Gyn jerkal jeh soilshey reesht;
Ayns dinnid nagh vow acyr grunt,
Mastey yn sterrym neesht.

I.

BEFORE a mother I became,
How happy were my days;
Nor head nor heart knew noise or pain,
To chill my blooming face.

II.

A stranger to all anxious care,
I always felt at ease;
But they are gone, my comforts dear,
My heart forgets its peace.

III.

When I had changed my state of life,
God gave me children dear;
I brought them up, so I might say,
But few their equals were.

IV.

Good scholars train’d in virtue’s ways,
Obedient, neat. and clean;
And these I hoped would prove my stay
When life was on the wane.

V.

To tell the straits I had to pass
To rear my children so,
Would prove a hard and heavy task,
Or more than words could do.

VI.

Trouble and want had pierced me through,
And pinch’d my heart full sore;
But stifi the worst I never knew,
Until they were no more.

VII.

Among the people, Robert was
A hero at the pen;
And day by day he gently rose
Higher in their esteem.

VIII.

A sample from his skilful hand,
Placed there in black and white,
Commemorates his worthy name,
On Kill-Chroo’s walls so bright.

IX.

Will vicar of St. Mary’s was,
A Christian pastor true;
The bishop’s hand, the people’s eye,
And vicar-general too.

X.

To widows, fatherless, and poor,
A blessing and a shield ;
The feeble’s help, who to the power
Of tyrants would never yield.

XI.

His wisdom, equal to his trust,
Still firmly bore him on;
Till his good conduct and his worth,
At England’s court was known.

XII.

That court where he was well received,
And honoured with a name;
Such as no Manxman living had,
And ne’er may have again.

XIII.

The brightness of his light was known
Throughout the Isle of Man;
In word and deed his lustre shone
To bless his native land.

XIV.

God’s glory and his people’s good
He made his constant care;
Obedient to his heavenly Head,
And look’d for wages there.

XV.

Among his labours in our cause,
We’ll long be proud to show;
He was the man who kept in force,
The ecclesiastical law.

XVI.

Well may old Mona’s sons lament
And weep ‘neath such a blow:
How few are found, with hearts intent,
To keep transgression low!

XVI.

Dear Doctor Walker’s name shall live
As long as Mona will;
And fathers through succeeding years,
Will to their children tell

XVIII.

How, when at England’s royal court,
‘Gainst those who broke the law,
He took away their vain support,
And brought their courage low.

XIX.

Who then shall wipe away the tears,
And cheer the gloomy brow,
Of those who mourn their shepherd dear,
The flock’s bereavement now?

XX.

But oh ! when I was most in need,
I saw him hurried home;
Pass’d o’er the stile his last retreat,
The mournful, gloomy tomb.

XXI.

Once I was happy in my sons,
A joyful mother I.
Beyond all want they cheer’d me on,
And always stood me by.

XXII.

Now cover’d with night’s darkest shade,
No glimmering ray appears;
My candle out, whilst none take heed
To cheer a parent dear.

XXIII.

My mind in total darkness kept,
All hope of light I’ve lost;
Plung’d in th’ unfathomable deep,
And midst the tempest toss’d.

Any comments, errors or omissions gratefully received The Editor
HTML Transcription © F.Coakley , 2000