Classic Poem

AM ANNINAGH DOOIE , from the clean I was troggit,
Close by the foot of the bridge of Cornaa,
Whose keystone was fix'd in the year I was ruggit,
Three miles and a half from the town of Rhumsaa.
In this rural spot, at the foot of the mountain,
I pass'd the gay morn of my life's chequer'd day,
Alike when December in ice bound each fountain,
Or flowers sprung forth at the mild breath of May.

To me seem'd my cot and the green fields around it
The whole of vast Nature's dominion below,
Tho' oft the blue ether that archingly bound it
Caused many conjectures its nature to know;
In a circle of joy each moment pass'd daily,
As freely I roved the green meadows or carn,
And sang, in my own native language, so gaily,
The “Kirree-fo-Niaghtey” or “Mylecharane.”

But, ah! cruel Fate, in her freak, had design'd me
To traverse the regions of old mother earth,
And leave my dear Mannin with sorrow behind me,
The home of my fathers—the land of my birth!
Full well I remember that day yet with sorrow,
When first from my own Mannin veen I did stray,
And when I beheld her high cliffs, on the morrow,
Fast sinking below the blue waves far away.

I thought of my parents who fondly caress'd me,
And soothed all my sorrows in childhood's fond years,
And love unrequited, that pang which distress'd me
And forced me away from my Island in tears:
What language can picture my heartfelt emotion,
As flew the gay bark o'er the white-foaming swell,
When I sigh'd to the breeze, in my silent devotion,
“My Mannin, my own Mannin veen, fare-thee-well!”