“Catch-my-pal, sur, whut’s it’s meaning’?”
Last week wus pit strecht til’ me
By a catchy nice young woman
Jist as iver I did see.

Flabbergasted an’ dumbfounded
Hoo best til’ meet his queery,
So thus in my ain simply style
I spak anent the theery.

A clergyman frae auld Armagh,
Young Patterson by name,
Has started aff a temperance move,
Which brings thim batih gret fame.

He shows in language plain an’ true
The evils o’ strong drink;
Sure, Britain is half conquered whun
Hir folk begin til’ think.

An’ realise the millions spent
On whisky, stoot, an’ beer,
By big an’ wee, by rich an’ poor,
As year succeeds each year.

He pictures sin an’ sufferin’ sore,
The lack o’ food an’ cloes
In homes o’ brither Irishmen
Whuriver strong drink flows.

Tae stem this awfoo tide o’ woe
Oor freen has strick a plan,
The virtue is each member keeps
His brither like a man.

An’ those outside this mighty move
Are houlted an’ broucht in’
Thus wul’ the work go on an’ on
Until we al’ are yin.

Freens think this movement jist a babe,
Yit Ulster noo can boast
O’ forty-thousan’ members strong
Success thou temperance host.

A thoosan’ guid that stan’ the test
On “Seven Towers” roll,
Wha hope by faith an’ love combined
To “totally” head the pole.

Addin’ although in “City Maine”
The drunkards are but few,
If led tae cal’ this wye some nicht
We grab oucht that is new.

The purport o’ my yarn is yours,
I need nae tel’ ye al’,
Fur whun I had thus spoken, freens,
Sure then I “catch-my-pal.”

Adam Lynn, Cullybackey 26th February 1910

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