• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    Sir Bee in the pursuit of honey,
    While wand’ring o’er the lea,
    Saw beautiful Miss Fairyfinger,
    Whose sweet smile tempted him to linger,
    And all unmindful of his duty,
    Intoxicated by her beauty,
    He flirted recklessly.

    Into her dainty ear he murmured,
    And loving things did say;
    He kissed her on her lips so bonny,
    She spread for him a feast of honey,
    And she was happy with her lover;
    But ah! Sir Bee was still a rover –
    He laughed and flew away.

    Friends, when you blame Sir Bee, remember
    His imitators, too.
    When heave your tender hearts with pity
    For this poor maid so sweet and pretty,
    Remember she is not the only
    Confiding flow’r left sad and lonely
    By those who should be true.