• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
  • Poem Banner
    Poems
    A glimpse through Erin’s past

    The shadows of night growing thicker
    Dissolved the last tints of the day;
    I gazed in the peat fire, whose flicker
    Declined in a weird sickly way.

    I gazed on the cinders, a-thinking;
    Tranquillity reigned in the room:
    Up rose from the embers low sinking
    Strange visions of war, gore and gloom.

    I saw in the flames slowly dying,
    A glimpse of the brave ones who strove
    And fought, the green flag o’er them flying,
    For us; and for Erin, their love.

    A moment  rose Clontarf before me:
    Our sires, as they mowed down the Dane
    In swathes, with their hand aching sorely,
    For rest paused again and again.

    I saw Gaels ‘gainst Sassanaghs dashing
    At Yellow Ford – our Bannockburn;
    Red Hugh, kern and gallowglass smashing,
    Till tyranny’s torn legions turn.

    Like avalanche next they came sweeping
    Benburb with the great Eoghan Roe;
    Like mowers of corn were they reaping
    The mighty array of Munroe.

    Then rose up a picture heart rending –
    Yet making the soul with pride glow;
    The maidens of Lim’rick defending
    The breach ‘gainst the terrible foe.

    The Wild Geese who shoulder to shoulder,
    With Sarsfield fought ere they had flown;
    The band  – Erin ne’er had a bolder –
    Who kept the old Bridge of Athlone.

    I saw; I saw those who for Ireland
    Joined Emmet and Tone in the strife;
    And all who faced death for our sireland,
    For altar, for children and wife.

    I saw in the fire sinking lowly,
    Those Gaels fighting for us and Faith
    ‘Gainst tyrants and heathens unholy –
    Those fathers who dared for us death.

    And then I resolved most sincerely
    A worthy descendant to be
    If those who loved Erin so dearly,
    And sacrificed so much for me.

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.