• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
  • Poem Banner
    By A New-Made Grave

    I found an old man kneeling by a new-made mound;
    His hands clasped in an attitude of prayer;
    Silent and motionless; his head was bare;
    His snowy locks wind-blown. With sad eyes raised
    To the far sky, as one entranced by gazed.

    He seemed to see his loved one in the sky,
    So long he looked with rapt and eager eye.
    At last the streams of sorrow ‘gan to race
    Adown the care-made furrows of his face.

    Faster and faster fell the flood of tears
    Upon the new-made grave. Unto my ears
    Came heart-wrung sobs. Convulsed with grief he lay,
    And kissed and hugged the cold and lifeless clay.

    I turned away my head – I could not brook
    Upon a scene so sorrowful to look.
    When next I gazed upon the new-made mound,
    Gone was the mourner. Silence reigned around.

    . . . . . . . . . . . .

    I went and knelt upon the tear-wet sod,
    And offered up an earnest prayer to God
    For the mourned one, and for him whose deep grief.
    Found in that luxury of tears relief.


    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.