Michael "The Bard" Mullin

Poems

He Knelt by a Grave

He knelt by a grave where forget-me-nots grew
In the shape of a cross, a beautiful blue.
His pain too poignant, his anguish too deep,
His woe too intense – not one tear could he weep.
The tears might have softened the sobs hard and dry;
And yet not a single tear moistened his eye.

He mused: “From blest bowers in God’s lovely town,
I know Mary often looks lovingly down
On me, her true lover, heart-broken and sad,
Whom she loved as a man, and admired as a lad.
And I know that she’ll meet me and greet me again
In that land where there’s neither sin, sorrow nor pain.

And I’m sure that true lovers God joined here below
Will join hands again where God’s white Lilies grow.
For true love’s immortal, true love will not die,
While the true God of true love is reigning on high”

Footnote: This poem was written about his wife’s grave in Dunmoyle. Michael walked to Dunmoyle every day. First from Shane and latter from Foremass.

Near A Hill-Top

Near a hill-top crowned with heather
Where the wild winds moan,
Where we often walked together
Now I walk alone.
Mary! ‘tis for you I’m mourning
In the sun and rain,
‘Tis for you my heart is yearning
Stabbed with pangs of pain.

Love! It is yourself I’m missing
For your smile I sigh
For your voice in vain I listen
You’re with God on high. ***
Mary tryst with you I’m keeping
Where the hill winds wave
Grasses growing o’er her sleeping
In her narrow grave

*** Heaven is so high

DATED 1ST NOVEMBER ’72

Mary Machree

Mary Machree! Excepting you,
I’ve little or nothing at all;
My purse is light, and my friends are few,
The rent is big, but the farm is small:
Mary Machree, Mary Machree –
You are riches and friends and fame to me!

You are the sun that illumines day,
The stars and moon of my night,
The wind that scatters my clouds away,
My glorious dawn, and my sunset bright:
Mary Machree, Mary Machree –
You are the light of the life of me!

The world is warm and bright and fair –
You, love, have made it so;
Fly from your presence sorrow and care;
And happiness goes wherever you go:
Mary Machree, Mary Machree –
My haven of rest on a stormy sea!

The sunset’s grand when its glory’s half
As great as what is thine;
The music’s sweet, that is like your laugh;
The flower that looks like you is divine:
Mary Machree, Mary Machree –
The glory and joy of the heart of me!

Poems in Category , , A Bit of Broken Delph, A brave lad, A Bunch of Heather, A Dozen Wee Ducks, A Dream, A Dream of Home, A Failte to Foremass, A Fairy Field, A Farmer’s prayer, A Farmer’s reverie, A Field of Beauty, A glimpse through Erin’s past, A Happy Valley, A Harvest Eve in Foremass, A jolly Ploughman, A Little While, A Love Song, A Neglected Melody, A Nice Day In February, A Picture, A Ploughman’s Picture House, A Prayer for Mary, A Reverie, A Robin sang, A sigh for Foremass, A Sigh for Foremass, A Summer Eve In Tirowen, A Sweet Retreat, A turfman’s musing, A Walk and a Wish, A wee peat posy, A Wee Wee Poem, A Wise wee cat, A Wise Wee River, A Wreath of Shamrocks, A-Cartin turf, All For Mary, All Souls Night, An Autumn Scene, An Exile’s Homecoming, An Exile’s Recollections, An Irish Whin Bush, An Old Man’s Prayer, An Old, Old Pair, An Untitled Poem from late 1960/Early 1970s, April, April, At the corn sowing, At The Cutting of The Peat, At The Stacking of The Corn, Autumn Musings, Autumn Musings, Back to the bog, Beech Leaves, Blame me not if I’m unworthy, Blessed Oliver Plunket, Both of us dream, Brian, Brian and Maire, Brigid’s Day, By A Foremass Fireside, By A New-Made Grave, By A Pleasant Riverside, Cardinal Macrory, Carting home the turf, Cloughfin River, Cushla Machree, Cutting the peat, Danny Aroon, Dear Irish Breeze, Death of an August Day, Deceived, Dermot, Do Not Wait Till Christmas, Doing the Stations of the Cross, Easter 1916, Exile Dream, Farewell To Foremass, Feast of The Assumption, Flying, Fond Memories, Foremass Braes, Four Wee Ducks, Glennanffrin, Grave Thoughts, Green Fields, Greeting The Exiles, Had I The Muse’s Art Divine, Hail Mary Full of Grace, Harvesting, He Knelt by a Grave, Heaven on Earth, Hi for the hills, I Love, I Sing, I take a stroll, I walk among my stooks, In April, In Foremass in Tyrone, In Memoriam, In memory of Joan Duggan (nee Mullin), Michael’s daughter. Died 5th March 2017 in Daisy Hill Hospital Newry. Rest in peace, In Springtime, In the bog, In the boglands, In The Doorway of her Cottage, Johnny, Joy comes with Spring, Joy Comes With Spring, June, Kathaleen, Kindness, Knockmanny, Lament of The Rose of Knockmanny, Lines To A Thrush, Lines to Mary, Little Things of Grace, Looking Back, Looking back, Loud Roars The Breeze, Love In A Cot, Loves Petition, Mary, Mary Machree, Maureen Asthore, Memories of May, Mountain hiking, Mountain musings, My Favourite Stream, My God is Not A Distant God, My Monitor, My Native Stream, My Rosary Beads, Near A Hill-Top, New Year, No Surrender, Noreen of Shane, November Dead, O Foremass Mine, O Little River, O Sacred Heart of Jesus, O! Cruel Fate, O, Teach Me, Blackbird, Of The Sacred Heart of Jesus, On Altamuskin, On Altamuskin Brae, On Christmas Day, On the Mountain, One Bower, Only a few more hills to climb, Optional, Patrick Dan (PD) Mullin “The Bard”, Pleasant Comrades, Ploughing in the Foremass fields, Ploughin’, Porridge, Remembering, Remembering, Rustic Charms, Sacred Heart of Jesus, Sad Songs are the Songs for Me, September Days, Sing Us A Song of Joy, Sing us a song of joy, Song of a Foremass Farmer, Song of the grey-beards, Spring In My Garden, St. Bride, St. Brigid’s Day, St. Brigid’s Day, The Bog Road, The Bogwind, The brown bogs of Ireland, The Brown Bogs of Ireland, The critical times, The Daisy, The eve of June, The Farmer among his stooks, The Foremass fields, The hills for me, The Holy Year, The Hopeful Bachelor, The key of happiness, The Magpie’s Song, The Masterpiece, The May in Ireland, The noble men who died, The Northern Blackwater, The Old Altar in Altamuskin, The old and new, The Old Home Road, The old year, The Ould Clocker, The Owenbrack, The Ploughman, The Poet to the Farmer, The Poet to the Farmer, The Roads of Tyrone, The rushing gale, The Secret, The Sleepy Valley in July, The song of the plough, The Song That Soothes My Heart, The Turfman’s song, The Vale, The Valley of The Telephone, The Wood In Autumn, There’s a High Hill in Tyrone, This is an unpublished and untitled peice – probably a first draft and undated post 1950, Thomas Davis, Thomas Davis, Thoughts by an old ruin, To Autumn, To Mullaghcairn, To My Brother, To My Brother, To My Youth’s Comrade, To Pansies, To Please My Love, To The Queen of October, To the river Erne, To The Sacred Heart, To welcome May, Tom Tig, Turf smoke, Untitled piece 1947, Untitled Poem/Handwritten, Waiting for the Bogtime, Weary winds asleep, Wee Burn, Welcome Home, What Makes Me Love My Mary, When Apple Trees Bloom, When carting home the peat, When Spring comes to Foremass, When the Heather blooms, While Ploughing in Spring, Whin Bushes, With Her Besom In Her Hand, Your Love, ‘tis Springtime now in Ireland, ‘twill soon be Spring in Ireland, ‘twill soon be Spring in Uladh,

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