• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    Lines to Mary

    O let me love you, Mary!
    When spring through Foremass strays;
    When all the vales are verdant,
    And golden all the braes.
    Then fair are the flow’rs and blossoms;
    But fairer will they be –
    If I have you to love, Mary!
    And you to love have me.

    O let me love you, Mary!
    When summer sunlight beams
    On the white homes of Foremass,
    And on the Foremass streams.
    Sweet songs these streams are singing:

    But sweeter will they be –

    If with your voice they blend, Mary!
    The while you talk with me.

    O let me love you, Mary!
    When leaves of autumn fall,
    When the birds’ songs are heard not,
    And a hush hangs oe’r all.
    Then the grand groves of Foremass
    Far more sublime will be –
    Reflected in your eyes, Mary!
    The while they smile on me.

    O let me love you, Mary!

    When winter raves and scolds:
    And Foremass his white mantle
    Around his shoulders folds.
    One dear, white home in Foremass
    Will dearer, whiter be –
    If it be then love’s shrine, Mary!
    The home of you and me.