• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    Poems
    My Rosary Beads

    MY rosary beads! Not hard to break
    With beads so small and links so weak,
    And cross so worn; thou art to me
    Dearer than richest jewellery.

    God’s mother used thee well and long
    In the grim fight gainst sin and wrong
    She leaned from heaven and held thee forth
    To help her clients here on earth.

    When foes wrecked Ireland’s heavenly path
    And drove her Primate to his death.
    Mary repaired the Rosary road
    And built her bridge of beads to God.

    The ladder beads in Mary’s hand
    Joined Ireland to the heavenly land.
    To these our faithful fathers clung,
    Climbed bead by bead and rung by rung.

    Their famine-wasted hands held on
    When priest and Mass and hope seemed gone
    O Rosary beads , O Rosary beads
    To thee they cling in direst needs.

    A life belt Mary to us gave
    Our Rosary beads! Our souls to save.
    She wants us all to go to heaven
    Our faults effaced, our sins forgiven.

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

    An Old Man’s Prayer

    Help me, God! To be more cautious
    Rounding the last bend.
    Time grows more and still more precious
    Near the end.
    Blind me to my neighbours’ failings
    Make me love Thee more
    And be brave as age’s ailings
    Make me sore.

    Help me as the day grows dimmer
    And the night comes down
    To behold ahead the glimmer
    Of Thy town.

    Help me keep accounts in order
    Totted carefully
    For I’m drawing near the Border
    Scrutiny.

    Help my final preparation
    For the last train home
    Mary! meet me at the station
    Kingdom come.

    MICHAEL MULLIN – ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS’

    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

    PUBLISHED IN THE ‘AFRICAN MISSIONARY’

    Feast of The Assumption

    (15TH AUG )

    We hail you, Mother Mary! mild and meek
    High over all archangels glorified
    The Queen of Heaven, and mankind’s hope and pride
    To you, our Mother! trustingly we speak.
    God’s masterpiece! Perfection’s human peak!
    Gentle, immaculate! We hasten to-day
    To celebrate your Assumption and to pray
    To you for help; for, Mother! we are weak.

    Out of this vale of tears, out of its pain
    Out of its vice and woe, to you we fly
    We pray to you, to whom none prays in vain,
    O, be our advocate when death is nigh.
    One glance from you will melt His Sacred Heart,
    And He will not condemn us to depart.

    MICHAEL MULLIN – ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS’

    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

    Sent to Sunday Independent

    And Cork Examiner 31 July 69

    Won in Cork Examiner