I’ve seen the Rose of Sharon and the lily in the dell,
I’ve smiled upon the primrose and the daffodil as well;
But their manifold attractions I must ever more disdain,
For I’ve promised to be faithful to the Flower of the Maine.

On the links at Cullybackey I can play a glorious game,
Though it’s often been suggested that it’s only golf in name;
But I’m best in the pavilion when I sit and watch the rain,
When my eyes are not so focussed on the Flower of the Maine.

I must always be teetotal, tho’ I often want a drink,
I’ve ceased to smile at maidens, tho’ I still know how to wink;
I hate teetotal principles, but I daren’t yet complain,
Of the Lodge of the Free Gardeners called the Flower of the Maine.

This is neither rhyme nor reason, and I may not even scan,
To do justice to my subject would require a superman;
I’ve still much more to tell you, but all words would be in vain
To describe the glorious beauty of the Flower of the Maine.

I used to ride on horseback, then I got a motorcar,
In my searchings after beauty I have travelled near and far;
But my journeyings aren’t over, so I’ll buy an aeroplane,
And seek the seventh heaven with the Flower of the Maine.

Adam Lynn, Cullybackey, 26th February 1916

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