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