• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    An Exile’s Homecoming

    Oh! Hasten, brave ship! Bear me speedily over
    The waters, for I am returning to die
    In Erin, the land which I left, a gay rover
    With vigour and courage and hopes that were high.

    I slaved in New York till my energy wasted
    In sweat, and in yearning from year unto year;
    What misery, woe, disappointments I tasted! –
    My story would wring from a tyrant a tear.

    Oh! hasten, good ship! – Ha! She’s gallantly cleaving
    The billows, – I’ll soon see that emerald shore,
    Ah, me! How I’ve changed since the time of my leaving –
    Then stalwart and blooming, now withered and hoar.

    But still to the Old Faith – thank God for his graces,
    Howe’er I have altered, I’ve steadfastly clung;
    And so thus I return to the land where my race is,
    To mingle my ashes my kindred’s among.

    Upon a green hill there’s a graveyard where only
    The singing of birds and the breezes are heard;
    ‘Tis there I’ll find rest in my damp bed and lonely –
    I’ll sleep softly happed ‘neath the verdurous sward.

    There rests waits the         of a sad-hearted rover;
    Kind robins will sing a lament o’er my grave,
    Which soft dews will          and shamrock will cover:-
    So hasten, brave ship, bear me over the wave.