• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
  • Poem Banner
    A Wise Wee River

    O little River! running
    ‘Twixt Foremass and Cloghfin;
    Thy voice is sad, though sweeter
    Than harp or violin.
    Thou that wert aye so cheerful,
    Why art thou now forlorn?
    What cause hast thou for grieving?
    O Friend! why dost thou mourn?”

    Sadly the river answered:-
    “Comrade! my joy has fled:
    The work of legislators
    Has filled my soul with dread.
    If I’m the river chosen
    To cleave my land in twain,
    I’ll mourn my lot for ever –
    I’ll never laugh again.

    Yon Foremass hills are daily
    Their tribute pouring in:
    Mingling their waters gaily
    With waters of Cloghfin.
    The Irish shamrock blooming
    To left and right I find:
    The North and South are treated
    By the same sun and wind.

    By neither mount nor river
    Should Ireland severed be;
    For Ireland all is Ireland –
    Surrounded by the sea”
    Thus sang a wise wee river
    ‘Twixt Foremass and Cloghfin,
    With a sad voice, but sweeter
    Than harp or violin.


    Michael Mullin ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.