Let me not be first in anger,
Cool and calm shall be the rule,
He who loses self control's in danger,
Of being made to look a likely fool.
I remember once in Bangor,
Where the Bay of Belfast sits,
An angry man who could not conquer,
his natures dark and adverse fits.
He was walking by the Quayside,
Having drunk his fill in ale,
And a dram or two in whiskey,
All added to this sorry tale.
A fisherman who had all day,
Been battling natures wildest sea,
He'd finished work and on his way.
Was homeward bound for wife and tea,
The drunken man who would not see,
Anything else, but an enemy,
Chose quite unwisely to berate,
The seaman who by now was late,
For home, and Hearth, and dinner plate,
I needn't tell the whole sad tale,
The angry man was sent to jail,
The happy bit, I will just mention,
The seaman as is the convention,
Became a hero in the press,
And, was feted by the mayor no less.
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