• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    A jolly Ploughman

    I’m just a jolly ploughman
    And my sweetheart’s the old swing.
    I am not a whole-time ploughman,
    For I finish up in spring.
    Then I can sow and dig and mow
    And I the flail can fling
    And at the churn I take a turn –
    And many another thing.

    My father taught me how to plough,
    The lark taught me to sing,
    I’ve learned the blackbird’s whistle,
    And the linnet’s lilt-i-ling.
    The wild birds love my whistling;
    And I love their carolling –
    Their hymns of hope and joy and love
    And many another thing.

    I am a jolly ploughman
    In the cot where I am king;
    With the jolliest little wifie
    That ever wore a ring.
    She patches clothes and heels and toes;
    The youngsters have their fling;
    While I mend brogues for the little rogues –
    And many another thing.

    MICHAEL MULLIN ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.