A river flows doon by the side o’ the village,
Enrichin’ hir beauty, hir wealth, an’ hir pride;
No city can boast such a fine situation
As the village that stan’s by the Maine Water’s side.

The oak an’ the beech tree grow near by the river,
An’ the ask an’ the elm tree oft times ir seen,
An’ the plantain looks lovely at this summer season,
When all these ir dressed in their rich colour’d green.

An’ the graveyard is there wae its sad solemn warnin’,
Where the beauty an’ scenery ir brichtest an’ best;
It foreshadows, lest here we be seekers of pleasure,
An even more beautiful heavenly rest.

A church wae fine spire stan’s close by the river,
Like a warnin’ at Jordan to point us to God,
To say that our spirits should ever look upward,
Though our bodies are destined to sleep ‘neath the sod.

An’ here, when evenin’ has dappled the skies,
Dear girls, bless their hearts, promenade oot the line,
An’ you’d think it was only a commonplace matter
When a few of the boys go a-walkin’ behin’.

The nymphs who reside in the town go oot also,
An’ as they gracefully meander alane,
Sea charmin’ they luck in their nate-finin’ costumes
That they brack hearts in twa o’ the Boys o’ the Maine.

S. H. B. Cullybackey 25th June 1910

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