I don't suppose that I should really be posting on this thread as the Isle of Man's not part of the UK. Recorded in our village hall.....
Captain of the parish of Ballaugh, Edgar Cowin, reciting a short excerpt from "Betsy Lee" by T E Brown.
Clicky here
T E Brown is much the same to us (few) Manx as Burns is to the Scots - ie pretty much our national poet.
When I was at primary school I remember learning this extract from "Betsy Lee" - my father knew far more of the poem than I ever did and would frequently recite large chunks of it......I used to love it, as his accent was just music to my ears.
"Now the beauty of the thing when childher plays is
The terrible wonderful length the days is.
Up you jumps, and out in the sun,
And you fancy the day will never be done ;
And you're chasin' the bumbees huminin' so cross
In the hot sweet air among the goss,
Or gath'rin' blue-bells, or lookin' for eggs,
Or peltin' the ducks with their yella legs,
Or a climbin' and nearly breakin' your skulls,
Or a shoutin' for divilment after the gulls,
Or a thinkin' of nothin', but down at the tide
Singin' out for the happy you feel inside.
That's the way with the kids, you know,
And the years do come and the years do go,
And when you look back it's all like a puff,
Happy and over and short enough."
Fast forward to 1994, when my Dad was 93 and dying in hospital - during his last few hours he was slipping in and out of conciousness and a nurse told me that he was obviously just talking nonsense now as "he keeps rambling on about ducks with yellow legs or something"?
I like to think that Dad was just back in his childhood, when he first learnt "Betsy Lee"........
Captain of the parish of Ballaugh, Edgar Cowin, reciting a short excerpt from "Betsy Lee" by T E Brown.
Clicky here
T E Brown is much the same to us (few) Manx as Burns is to the Scots - ie pretty much our national poet.
When I was at primary school I remember learning this extract from "Betsy Lee" - my father knew far more of the poem than I ever did and would frequently recite large chunks of it......I used to love it, as his accent was just music to my ears.
"Now the beauty of the thing when childher plays is
The terrible wonderful length the days is.
Up you jumps, and out in the sun,
And you fancy the day will never be done ;
And you're chasin' the bumbees huminin' so cross
In the hot sweet air among the goss,
Or gath'rin' blue-bells, or lookin' for eggs,
Or peltin' the ducks with their yella legs,
Or a climbin' and nearly breakin' your skulls,
Or a shoutin' for divilment after the gulls,
Or a thinkin' of nothin', but down at the tide
Singin' out for the happy you feel inside.
That's the way with the kids, you know,
And the years do come and the years do go,
And when you look back it's all like a puff,
Happy and over and short enough."
Fast forward to 1994, when my Dad was 93 and dying in hospital - during his last few hours he was slipping in and out of conciousness and a nurse told me that he was obviously just talking nonsense now as "he keeps rambling on about ducks with yellow legs or something"?
I like to think that Dad was just back in his childhood, when he first learnt "Betsy Lee"........
