On Lhergy Roie
As I went up the Lhergy Roie,
Beyond the fields of Ballasayle
The mist crept round me to destroy
All landmarks with its blinding veil…
Then, from a world that was not mine
Of sun nor moon, of noon nor night,
There breathed an odour half divine
From fruit-hung orchards blossom-bright;
And, trembling through the darkening air
Between the mountain and the sea,
Came silvery music everywhere
Of shaken bells that called to me…
As I crossed over Lhergy Roie
I met with one both young and old –
O ageless as the Queen of Troy,
And queenly diademed with gold.
Her wild hair shone to every airt,
Out of her eyes blue morning flowed,
And kindled by her burning heart
Horn-lantern-like her body glowed.
She took my hand into her hand
And brought me where her people dwell:
But word of that deep-hidden land
Let no man ask, for none may tell.
* * * *
As I came down from Lhergy Roie
Upon the street of Eairy Vane,
Our sheepdog barked and jumped for joy
To see me safe at home again –
Yet he seemed old who had been young
That morning, when I went away –
And how could tramman-trees have sprung
Beneath our gable in a day?
(source: by W Walter Gill from Manninagh No.1 May 1972; photograph)
I'm a web designer, amateur historian and keen gardener and I enjoy bringing Manx history, folklore and poetry to a modern audience.
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