Mist Weather Report Douglas, Isle of Man +7°C, Mist

Tag "kathleen faragher"

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The House on the Hill

Ay! the farmhouse is shuttered an’ empty, An’ the wans that lived theer is all gone; No smook from the chimley goes curlin’, For the days o’ that li’l crof’ is done.   No dog barks a half-warnin’ welcome; No

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The Stranger

My! My! But yer git some surprises! I was fair took aback, Mrs Gale! Theer’s me born an’ bred on the sod here – From the Lhen way we come – out near Smale, An’ here’s this wan from Englan’

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In An Old Manx Cottage

Is it yerself tha’s theer, Betsy? Lif’ up the latch wumman – an’ come in. Shut the dhure quick – for the fire’s smookin’ with the eas’ win’ An’ I’m feelin’ the cuth somethin’ tarrable! Who’s this yer got with

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On the Shore

Come an’ sit yerselves down, all you childher While I throw some more bons on the fire – An’ I’ll tell yer a tale o’ me chil’hood, While the win’ theer gits higher an’ higher. Pull the shutters across them

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On Tynwald Fair Day

Eighty-five I’ll be me nex’ birthday, Ay! – Eighty-five nex’ Tynwal’ Fair Day. I remember when I was a li’l wan How the neighbours was used to say Warra glister me mother had on her Gittin’ ready to go to

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My! My!

Ay! theer’s me on me way to the churchyard With the daffodils gripped in me han’; An’ me cough had all gone, an’ me ailments, Now the sunshine had come; it was gran’! An’ I thought as I passed the

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The West Wind

Whither away, little journeying west wind? Why do you laugh as you skip down the hill? Linger awhile, for the day is but young yet Tell us your story, west wind, if you will. What did you see as you

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Kathleen Faragher’s Manx Words & Dialect Words

I really enjoy Kathleen Faragher’s work and have compiled this list of Manx words and Manx dialect words from 6 of her books. across – on the mainland aigh vie – good luck banya – milk bin-jean – junket bithag

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August on the Hills

A li’l breeze stroog-stroogs through the bracken As a bird from the gill theer takes wing, An’ the hills is all purple an’ lovely; Ay! fair shinin’ with heather an’ ling. An li’l spithags o’ clouds sen’s theer shadders Down

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In the Owl Days

“It’s a long time ago now,” says Kirry; “Aw ay, chile – a long time ago, When I wasn’ much bigger till you are, An’ bein’ reared by me Gran’mother Crowe. Aw! a wunnerful wumman was Granny; I can see

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