• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
    • Poem Banner
    Poems
    ‘tis Springtime now in Ireland

    ‘Tis springtime now in Ireland.
    O how I wish I were
    Where cuckoos give you greeting
    By sociably repeating
    The name they proudly bear.

    I’m lonely far from Ireland
    So clean and green and grand
    And the neighbourly “God save you”
    Which kind folk often gave you
    Within that friendly land.

    I’ve been so long from Ireland
    I fear when I return
    I’ll seek in vain the faces
    Of old friends in old places
    The friends for whom I yearn.

    I fear I’ll be forgotten
    And I fear there will be few
    Old voices to remind me
    Of youth so far behind me
    Excepting the cuckoo.

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS,
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross. Co. Tyrone.
    May 3rd 1960

    When Spring comes to Foremass

    When up our quiet vale comes Spring,
    With smiling face and graceful mien;
    When birds are blithely welcoming
    The lovely and beloved queen.

    When zephyr draws with tender touch
    From sylvan harps a gentle strain,
    Inviting timid buds to stretch
    Their hands for kiss of sun and rain;

    When like the starry fields above,
    Our daisied meadows smile below;
    While shamrocks clasp with sighs of love
    Shy daisies till their blushes glow –

    Then, then across the Foremass braes
    Together hand in hand we’ll rove,
    And dream and talk of other days
    When first we felt the power of love.

    Then, then we’ll seek the Foremass stream,
    And list its song, and near it stroll,
    Dreaming again the golden dream
    That wed us, hand and heart and soul.

    And pray that God, Who aye hath been
    To us our best and truest Friend,
    May guide us, holy and serene,
             Together to our journey’s end.

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

    ‘twill soon be Spring in Ireland

    ‘Twill soon be spring in Ireland
        Though I shall not be there
    To hear the corncrakes loudly
    And cuckoos just as proudly
        Their pretty names declare.
    Where neighbours say “God save you”
       These spring  birds seem to say,
    “God save you kindly, neighbours
    And bless you at your labours
        And cheer you at your play.

    I’ve been so long from Ireland
        I fear when I return
    I’ll seek in vain the faces
    Of old friends in old places
        And I’ll be left to mourn.
    And I fear I’ll be forgotten
        And I fear there will be few
    Old voices to remind me
    Of youth left far behind me
        Save the corncrake and cuckoo.
     
    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS,
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross. Co. Tyrone.