Oftimes I walk abroad,
At Autumn morn and even,
To view the works of God
Who made the earth and heaven.
And as I view
The heavens blue
Afar that stretches o’er me,
And fields of grain
On slope and plain
Extending forth before me;
I feel I should be meek
Of heart, of spirit lowly;
I see how man is weak,
How God is great and holy.

The leaves upon the trees,
The Summer saw them blooming,
But Autumn’s fading breeze
Their freshness is consuming;
Like fate unkind,
That Autumn wind
Flings them to earth and spurns them,
From dust they came,
And to the same
Dame Nature now returns them;
These leaves to me recall
The fact – I should be humble;
We came from dust, and all
Of us to dust must crumble.

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