. The Phynodderree, and other legends of the Isle of Man . OW, said the king, so soon as his henchman hadfilled his jewelled goblet wich bright amber-colouredwine — now let us resume our those near our mortal guest, Tom Kewley, seethat he is hospitably entertained, as so worthy aguest should be, and the master of the revels canproceed to call on the next in turn for their jumped a pretty, curly, fair-haired little elf, whose merry blue eyes proclaimed him to be full of mischief; and without any further prelude than a bow to his liege lord, and a very knowing wink as he
. The Phynodderree, and other legends of the Isle of Man . OW, said the king, so soon as his henchman hadfilled his jewelled goblet wich bright amber-colouredwine — now let us resume our those near our mortal guest, Tom Kewley, seethat he is hospitably entertained, as so worthy aguest should be, and the master of the revels canproceed to call on the next in turn for their jumped a pretty, curly, fair-haired little elf, whose merry blue eyes proclaimed him to be full of mischief; and without any further prelude than a bow to his liege lord, and a very knowing wink as he looked towards Tom, he began the following song: THE ELFINS RIDE. When wild winds howl round Snaefells crown, And heavy clouds roll down his side,We love at midnight hour to roam,Or on a gallant steed to ride. 50 TOM KEMLEY AXD THE LANNANSHEE; A horse we catch, of rare good stock—No common hack will suit our taste— A score or more will mount his back, And round and round the fields we THE JADED STEED. Theres not a nag thats worth his keepBut we soon try his pace by night; We mount him, trot him, gallop, leap Oer bank or stream, nought stays our flight. On, on we ride, nor slack the speedTill the grey east light gives warning; OR, THE FAIRY CUP OF KIRK MA LEW. 51 Back to his home to guide our steed, And hide ourselves snug ere morning. The farmer to his farmyard hies,Bent on good care and feeding; His pet nag meets his bewildered eyesAll foam-bedecked and bleedintr. to- sure, he says, the elfin crewHave held their demon races ;Poor Dobbins shaken through and through,Lost looks, flesh, temper, paces. The farmer then, without delay, Nails on a lock to his stable door;Makes all secure by night and day, Resolved we fays shall ride no more. But we manage still to find some sport Where stable locks are still unknown ;And we train the pick of all the lot After a fashion quite our own. We do ! we do ! we do indeed ! shrieked a. hundred laughing elvesand bugganes, and have
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidphynodderree, bookyear1882
