Ye happy birds! that dwell among
Our Foremass groves this April day,
Carol a sweet ecstatic song
To welcome May.
O lark! ascend yon bright blue skies,
And southward gaze, while hymns you chant;
O lark! – lest May should us surprise –
O’er Foremass fields the live long day,
The cuckoo with untiring voice
Calls: “I’m the hearld of the May –
Wear, braes of gorse! your crowns of gold;
Your snowy blooms, O thorn! prepare;
Ye fields! your fairest flowers unfold,
And proudly wear.
Bloom, Foremass! for your visitor –
Sweet May that comes but once a year,
May, which we’ve sighed and waited for,
Loved May is near.
MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross. Co. Tyrone.