One of the ‘lost’ poems recently discovered was the Tramman Tree - describing William’s affection for the native Manx Gaelic named Elder:

The Tramman Tree

Not all the oaks that crowns the glades,

Of England’s flowery lawn,

Nor spreading Elms beneath whose shades,

Refreshment seeks the fawns,

When chased by summer’s sultry heat,

From off the sunlit lea,

Can yield me associations sweet,

Like Mona's Tramman tree.

 

For I have viewed the spring’s bright eye,

Peep through the wintry gloom,

With azure rays to tinge the sky,

And furs and hawthorn’s bloom,

And sought the daisy (natures gem),

An infant hand and knee,

To pluck it off its emeral stem,

Beneath the Tramman tree.

Such pleasing reminiscence sweet,

Of Childhood’s blissful years,

The Tramman and its rural leat,

Even now to me endears,

My thoughts are led still to my home,

When e’er I’m bless’d to see,

Near some ’lone cot where e’en I roam,

A caged Tramman Tree,

 

But yet there is a magic spell,

Hangs on its bough and leaves,

As I have heard old materns tell,

Which unto my memory alone,

Is that the fancy takes delight,

With elvish Mirth and glee,

To dance around each moonlight night,

The ancient Tramman Tree,

 

And they in fear dared with impious hand,

The Tramman tree to fell,

Upon their cattle grounds and land,

Have sorely felt the spell,

But they who would the Tramman keep,

With reverential awe.

Unharm’d their cows and mountain sheep,

To numerous herds would grow.

William Kennish

 

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