I sampled the sun and the rain of life,
I sifted the chaff from the grain of life,
I tested the joy and the pain of life,
The tear, the sigh and the song.

I weighed the crown and the cross of life
Against the gold and the dross of life;
I counted the profit and loss of life
In the battle of Right and Wrong.

I probed the soul and the heart of life;
I searched to the end from the start of life
I scrutinised every part of life
For the secret of life’s plan.

And love I found through the whole of life,
Is the real, ideal goal of life;
True love is the true soul of life –
As hate is the death of Man.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

Your task it is to till the fields
And so produce abundant yields
For nourishing mankind.
But while you plough the plain and hill
The poet’s pen is needed still
To plough and till the mind.

Your noble task it is to sow
Your seeds and tend them as they grow
And garner them again.
The poet sows with finer seeds
That God may garner finer deeds
And higher thoughts from men.

God give you strength your work to do
While I the rainbows arch pursue
And search for sunset gold.
Star-dust with heavenly dew I’ll blend
And go on singing to the end
Of beauties yet untold.

While your high duties you perform
I’ll do my best to cheer and charm
With my poetic art
You’ll plough and sow and reap and bind
I’ll try to educate the mind
And elevate the heart.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.
Sent 9th Aug. 1948

Long years ago I plucked a bunch of heather;
For you, aroon, I plucked it, dewy wet,
Upon a hill which we oft climbed together –
Upon the hill where first in youth we met.

Now we are old, and faded is love’s token;
But in our hearts that love is blooming still –
‘Tis like our trysting tree, by storms unbroken,
That deeper, firmer roots into the hill.

We’ve climbed the hill of life together bravely;
And now, while drawing closer to the crown,
We often pause, and turn, surveying gravely
The slopes behind, and youth’s plateau far down.

A hard fight was ours, but love gave strength to fight it;
Though rough the road you never did complain;
With some hopes realised, and many blighted
We’ve had our share of sunshine and of rain.

Together we have climbed life’s hill – together
May we step forth upon the long, long road
That stretches upwards from the hill of heather,
To where awaits our heavenly abode.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

Written pre 1939