• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
  • Poem Banner
    Untitled piece 1947

    The mountains of old Ireland bold sentinels they stand
    Gigantic guardian watching o’er the welfare of the land
    Their feet dug deep into the earth their heads are in the sky.
    These strongholds to which Freedom fled when despots bade her die
    Our sad eyed sons and daughters as their ships speed o’er the foam
    Gaze back across the waters to the mountain tops of home
    These mountain heathery bonnets wave a sweet and sad adieu
    To every lonely wanderer as Erin sinks from view
    The exiled Gaels of Ireland in their wandrings o’er the world
    Oft dream of Irish cannabhans and heather flags unfurled
    And if they ere return again their gladdest glimpse shall be
    The mountain tops of Ireland arising up above the sea
    The mountains of old Ireland are monuments sublime
    That hold the records of a sad and of a glorious time
    Alters of faith and freedom by saints and sages trod
    And blest by blood of martyrs for Ireland and for God.

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass,
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.