[From Manx Ballads, 1896]

MANNINEE DOBBERAN HARRISH SEAGHYN MANNIN VEEN.

MANXMEN MOURNING OVER THE TROUBLES OF DEAR MANNIN.

YN chied ree ayn va Mannanan Beg Mac y Leirr,
Cha row eh laccal keesh, agh mayl beg ass y cheer,
Cha mooar eh dooin jough, chamoo gless dy feeyn,
Agh bart leaghyr glass shen ooilley dagh blein.

Chorus

Trog erriu, trog erriu, O Vanninee chree,
Trog erriu, trog erriu, nagh caill shin nyn mree,
Trog erriu, trog erriu, O Vanninee dooic,
As ylow shin veih'n ree yn cairys ta cooie.

V'ad beaghey myr shoh, gyn kiarall ny imnea,
As Mannanan reill harroo ayns shee lesh y kay,
Gynsagh daue cairys, cha row echey GhooYee
Jig skielley da Mannin, eisht va'n ree ain Creestee.

Trog erriu, &c.

Tra harrish Sostyn va Ree Yamys reill,
Ny Kiare-as-feed ayns charraneyn hie gys Lunnin ny whaail.
Lhig dauesyn t'ayn nish agh myr shoh jannoo reesht,
As nee ad hauail Mannin veen woish y keesh.

Trog erriu, &c.


Ren troo, farg, as goanlys, cur mow Illiam Dhone,
Ta bodial feer dhoo, getlagh nish er y tonn;
Ver eh boand er nyn dhieyn, nyn dhalloo as nhee,
My hig keeshyn da Mannin, nee ad brishey nyn shee.

Trog erriu, &c.

As shiuish fir crauee, ny chaghteryn shee,
O gow jee kiarall, bee ny boghtyn laccal bee;
Coyrlee jee, coyrlee jee, coyrlee jee dy braew,
Dy chur chaghter da'n ree, O coyrlee chur jee daue.

Trog erriu, &c.

O eirinee, eirinee, eirinee boght,
Er lhiam bee shin laccal chammah bee as yn jough.
Lheid yn anchairys shoh dy bragh cha row rieau
Yn bodjal lurg shoh bee nyn dhalloo goit, veue.

Trog erriu, &c.

Agh mannagh jean Sostyn cur keesh er y feeyn,
Yiu mayd slaynt gys y ree as slaynt y ven-rein,
Ny noidyn dewil castit as shin hene ec shee,
Nee mayd giu as ve gennal, lesh slaynt ec nyn gree.

Trog erriu, &c.

Ver mayd moylley da Sostyn, as moylley d'an ree;
Ayns giu gys nyn slaynt, cha n'aase mayd dy bragh skee,
As tra nee ny noidyn oc chaglym dy chiu,
Nyn v'uill nee mayd dheartey dy hauail ad voue.

Chorus

Trog erriu, trog erriu, lesh dunnallys cree,
Trog erriu, trog erriu, na bee shiu cha dree,
Trog erriu, trog erriu, O Vanninee chree,
As foddee dy bee mayd foast gennal ayns shee.

THE first king therein was Mannanan Beg Mac y Leirr,
He did not want taxes, but small rent from the land.
He did not begrudge us beer, nor a glass of wine,
But a load of green rushes1 in each year was all.2

Chorus

Arouse ye, arouse ye, O ye Manxmen dear,
Arouse ye, arouse ye, do not lose your pluck,
Arouse ye, arouse ye, O ye Manxmen true,3
And ye'll get from the king the justice that's due.

They lived in this way, without care or trouble,
And Mannanan ruling them in peace with the mist,
Teaching them justice, he possessed not God's Word
Till the News4 came to Man, then our king was Christian.

Arouse ye, &c.

When over England King james did rule,
The Keys5 went to London to meet him in carranes.
Let those who are in6 now but do the same again,
And they will deliver dear Man from the tax.

Arouse ye, &c.

Envy, hate, and malice destroyed Illiam Dhone,
The cloud 's very black, hov'ring now on the wave;
It will weigh on our houses, on our land and all,
If taxes come to Mannin, they will break up our peace.

Arouse ye, &c.

And ye holy men, the messengers of peace,
O take ye good heed, the poor will be wanting food
Advise ye, advise ye, advise ye bravely,
To send to the king, O advice give ye them.

Arouse ye, &c.

O husbandmen, husbandmen, husbandmen poor,
Methinks you'll be wanting both the food and the drink.
Such injustice as this there never has been ;
The next cloud will be the land taken from you.

Arouse ye, &c.

But if England will not put tax on the wine,
We'll drink health to the king and health to the queen,
Our fierce foes overcome and ourselves at peace,
We'll drink and be joyful, with health at our hearts.

Arouse ye, &c.

We will give praise to England, and praise to the king;
Of drinking their health, we will never get tired,
And when their enemies shall gather thickly,
We will pour out our blood to deliver them.

Chorus

Arouse ye, arouse ye, with boldness of heart,
Arouse ye, arouse ye, do not be so slow,
Arouse ye, arouse ye, O ye Manxmen dear,
And perhaps we may yet be merry in peace.

1 "coarse grass."
2 i.e., all the taxes he exacted.
3 "native-
4" The Four-and-twenty.
5 i.e., the Gospel.
6 those who are members of the Keys now.