When up our quiet vale comes Spring,
With smiling face and graceful mien;
When birds are blithely welcoming
The lovely and beloved queen.

When zephyr draws with tender touch
From sylvan harps a gentle strain,
Inviting timid buds to stretch
Their hands for kiss of sun and rain;

When like the starry fields above,
Our daisied meadows smile below;
While shamrocks clasp with sighs of love
Shy daisies till their blushes glow –

Then, then across the Foremass braes
Together hand in hand we’ll rove,
And dream and talk of other days
When first we felt the power of love.

Then, then we’ll seek the Foremass stream,
And list its song, and near it stroll,
Dreaming again the golden dream
That wed us, hand and heart and soul.

And pray that God, Who aye hath been
To us our best and truest Friend,
May guide us, holy and serene,
         Together to our journey’s end.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross. Co. Tyrone.