Welcome, welcome to this hill,
welcome, welcome all that will,
eat and drink and have your fill.

We’ve welcomed Vikings, Celts and lords,
the fishers’ nets, the warriors’ swords,
the loaghtans of the crofters’ field
and those who ploughed the seas for yield.

The winds still touch the old stone cross,
the hidden glens grow tree and moss.
Rest awhile, and mend your loss.

We’ve welcomed tourists in their droves,
sly smugglers to our creeks and coves,
the money-men escaping dues,
the gamblers game to win or lose.

The winds still kiss the ancient shore,
proclaiming freedom’s better law.
A humble beauty needs no more.

But welcome more the voices here,
from parish earth the soil so dear,
voice of children, husbands, wives,
the dreams of all the common lives.
Heed their cushag-stubborn song,
that peace and justice might belong.

The winds still chant above the keeills,
the seabirds soar and dance their reels.
It is the simple truth that heals.

So welcome, welcome to this hill,
welcome, welcome all that will,
eat and drink and have your fill.

Michael Manning - Eighth Manx Bard
5th July 2023