Suggested on hearing one of our esteemed local clergymen state in preaching a very eloquent sermon recently that “Life was made up of trifles”
“Trifles,” said oor preacher lately,
“Mak’ the sum o’ life’s bit day.
Some o’ which A ettle namin’
In the simple wye A hae,
Trustin’ that they may remind us
We shud watch as weel as pray.
Steerin’ clear o’ musty history
As set forth in prose an’ rhyme,
Wae its multitude o’ “trifles,”
Aften naethin’ short o’ crime
Referrin’ tae this generation
An’ the awfu’ present time.
A trifle merely oor first comin’
Also whutoor name shall be,
Oor upbringin’ some few trifles,
Whuther on the lan’ ur sea.
A trifle whuther stoot ur doncy,
Whuther that we lieve ur dee.
A trifle juist whut occupation
We ir in tae knock oot life,
A trifle whuther that oor nighbour
Lieve in peace ur hellish strife.
A trifle whuther we ir single
Ur a husban’ ur a wife.
A trifle whuther truly Christian,
Ur still hae Satan as oor da;
A trifle whuther we ir moral,
Ur smithereens the sacred la’.
Trifles some may cal’ sick items,
But stupendous yin an’ a’.
A.L.F., Cullybackey, 28th September 1915