An Ulsterman

Lynn C. Doyle

I do not like the other sort;
they're tricky an' they're sly,
An' couldn't look you in the face
Whenever they pass by.
Still I'll give in that here an' there,
You'll meet a decent man;
I would make an exception, now,
About wee Michael Dan.

But, then, he's from about the doors,
An' lived here all his days,
An', mixin' with us in an' out,
He's fell into our ways.
He pays his debts an' keeps his word
An' does the best he can.
If only all the Papishes
Were like wee Michael Dan!

A better neighbour couldn't be.
He borrows an' he lends;
An!--bar a while about the Twelfth
When him an' me's not friends-
He'll never wait until he's asked
To lend a helpin' han'.
There's quite a wheen of Protestants
I'd swop for Michael Dan.

Of course he'd burn me at the stake,
I know that very well;
An' told me one day to my face
I'm not too safe from hell.
But when I backed a bill for him
He met it like a man.
There's sparks of Christianity
About wee Michael Dan.

So, while I have my private doubts
About him reachin'heaven,
His feet keeps purty near the pad
On six days out of seven;
An' if it falls within the scope
Of God Almighty's, plan
To save a single Papish sowl,
I hope it's Michael Dan.

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