James Stephens

A speck went blowing up against the sky As little as a leaf: then it drew near And broadened. "It's a bird," said I,

Since your limbs were laid out The stars do not shine, The fish leap not out

The leaves are fresh after the rain, The air is cool and clear, The sun is shining warm again,

The lark shall never come to say To a gombeen-man, "Good day," And the lark shall never cry

Behind the hill I met a man in green Who asked me if my mother had gone out? I said she had.    He asked me had I seen

The man who has and does not give Shall break his neck, and cease to live; But he who gives without a care

We thought at first, this man is a king for sure, Or the branch of a mighty and ancient and famous lineage, That silly, sulky, illiterate, black-avised boor

The sun is always in the sky Whenever I get out of bed, And I often wonder why

(AFTER THE IRISH) Do not marry, Breed, asthore! That old man whose head is hoar

If you come to live with me, I will sing so heartily In your honour that you will

Inside a soap shop, down a lane, A big bee buzzed on a window-pane, Climbing the cold glass up and down;

The night was creeping on the ground; She crept and did not make a sound Until she reached the tree, and then

My heart is withered and my health is gone, For they who were not easy put upon, Masters of mirth and of fair clemency,

When you meet an ancient man, Be as silent as you can; So when old age comes to you,

Come all ye happy children, and Gather round me hand in hand, Dancing to the merry cry,

When a Dublin man shall say, "Give me a little bread, I pray," If you do not give him bread

When the bright eyes of the day Open on the dusk, to see Mist and shadow fade away

Do not let any woman read this verse; It is for men, and after them their sons And their sons' sons.

He who locks a gate doth close Pity's heart against his woes; But who opens one shall find

I saw the moon so broad and bright Sailing high on a frosty night: And the air swung far and far between

A Dublin man will frown when he Hears a tale of villainy; But when a kindness you relate,

Pacing slowly down the road Black horses go, with load on load Of Dublin people dead, and they

Here in a distant place I hold my tongue; I am O'Rahilly: When I was young,

Be kind unto these three, O King! For they were fragrant-skinned, cheerful and giving; Three stainless pearls, three of mild, winning ways,

Poor, frightened, fluttered, silent one! If we had seen your nest of clay We would have passed it by, and gone,

O woman full of wiliness! Although for love of me you pine, Withhold your hand adventurous,

Listen! if but women were Half as kind as they are fair, There would be an end to all

At four o'clock, in dainty talk, Lords and lovely ladies walk, With a gentle dignity,

Through the air, Everywhere, the rain is falling; Brawling on house and tree:

In bloom and bud the bees are busily Storing against the winter their sweet hoard That shall be rifled ere the autumn be

I thought I heard Him calling. Did you hear A sound, a little sound? My curious ear Is dinned with flying noises, and the tree

There was a giant by the Orchard Wall Peeping about on this side and on that, And feeling in the trees: he was as tall

Mad Patsy said, he said to me, That every morning he could see An angel walking on the sky;

Play to the tender stops, though cheerily: Gently, my soul, my song: let no one hear: Sing to thyself alone; thine ecstasy

Now may we turn aside and dry our tears, And comfort us, and lay aside our fears, For all is gone, all comely quality,

The hill is bare: I only find The grass, the sky, and one small tree Tossing wildly on the wind;

She is the sky of the sun, She is the dart Of love,

The sky-like girl whom we knew! She dressed herself to go to the fair In a dress of white and blue;

Grey clouds on the tinted sky, A drifting moon, a quiet breeze Drooping mournfully to cry

And then I wakened up in such a fright; I thought I heard a movement in the room But did not dare to look; I snuggled right

While I sit beside the window I can hear the pigeons coo, That the air is warm and blue,

Here and there on the wings of night A fleck of blue and purple light, A scrap of cloud, a bird, a star,

It is not on her gown She fears to tread; It is her hair

I, without bite or sup, If thou wert fated for me, I would up

I will sing no more songs: the pride of my country I sang Through forty long years of good rhyme, without any avail; And no one cared even as much as the half of a hang

In Dublin town the people see Gorgeous clouds sail gorgeously, They are finer, I declare,

My mind is sad and weary thinking how The griffins of the Gael went over the sea From noble Eir', and are fighting now

Do you hate me, you! Sitting quietly there, With the burnished hair

If poesy have truth at all, If some great lion of the Gael Shall rule the lovely land of F'l;

As lily grows up easily, In modest, gentle dignity To sweet perfection,

Silver stars shine peacefully, The Canal is silver, the Poplars bear with modest grace

The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer: May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair,

Pity it was that you should ever stand In ship or boat, Or that you went afloat

A small part only of my grief I write; And if I do not give you all the tale It is because my gloom gets some respite

The wind stood up and gave a shout; He whistled on his fingers, and Kicked the withered leaves about

At the end of the bough, at the top of the tree (As fragrant, as high, and as lovely as thou) One sweet apple reddens which all men may see,

Do not be distant with me, do not be Angry because I drank deep of your wine, But treat that laughing matter laughingly

I was hiding in the crooked apple tree, Scouting for Indians, when a man came; I thought it was an Indian, for he

Tree! you are years standing there, Gripping tight to the side of the hill, And your branches are spread on the air,

Unfortunates, on the bare tree! I mourn for ye That have no place to house,

I know a girl, And a girl knows me, And the owl says, what?

Come from your bed my drowsy gentleman! And you, fair lady, rise and braid your hair, And let the children wash, if wash they can;

Who knows a thing and will not tell Shall spend eternity in hell; But he who learns and teaches free

As I stood at the door Sheltered out of the wind, Something flew in

Come with me, under my coat, And we will drink our fill Of the milk of the white goat,

His arms were round a chest of oaken wood, It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed An awful weight.    After a while he stood

Now with the coming in of the spring the days will stretch a bit, And after the Feast of Brigid I shall hoist my flag and go, For since the thought got into my head I can neither stand nor sit

Cow, Cow! I and thou Are looking at each other's eyes

In the scented bud of the morning - O, When the windy grass went rippling far, I saw my dear one walking slow

I saw the Devil walking down the lane Behind our house., There was a heavy bag Strapped tightly on his shoulders, and the rain

When no flower is nigh, you might Spy a weed with deep delight; So, when far from saints and bliss,

I cling and swing On a branch, or sing Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O:

I walked out in my Coat of Pride, I looked about on every side, And said the mountains should not be

Our fathers must have sinned: we pay for it! Through them the base-born tribe that sold their king Sneaked into power, and in high places sit,

I will not heed the message which you bring: That lovely lady gave her cloak to us, And who'd believe she'd give away a thing

The crooked paths go every way Upon the hill - they wind about Through the heather in and out

I put the sky into my pocket, And the sea into my locket, And into my breeches-band

A sparrow hopped about the street, And he was not a bit afraid; He flew between a horse's feet,

If all must suffer equally, and pay In equal share for that sin wrought by Eve, O Thou, if Thou wilt deign to answer, say:

So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve. His face was sad, His hands hung slackly down

If the Moon had a hand I wonder would she Stretch it down unto me?

An old man sat beneath a tree Alone; So still was he

The mountains stand and stare around, They are far too proud to speak; Altho' they're rooted in the ground,

When a son you shall desire, Pray to water and to fire; But when you would have a daughter,

Shepherd! while the lambs do feed, And you rest beneath a tree, Pipe upon an oaten reed

Then she arose And walked in the valley In her fine clothes.

I heard a bird at dawn Singing sweetly on a tree, That the dew was on the lawn,

I was frightened, for a wind Crept along the grass to say Something that was in my mind

Silence comes upon the night, Gone is all the cheerful day, The moon has disappeared from sight,

(To A.E.) I hear a sudden cry of pain! There is a rabbit in a snare:

I was playing with my hoop along the road Just where the bushes are, when, suddenly, There came a shout., I ran away and stowed

Many a time your father gave me aid When I was down, and now I'm down again: You mustn't take it bad or be dismayed

The moon comes every night to peep Through the window where I lie, And I pretend to be asleep;

I went to the Wood of Flowers (No one was with me); I was there alone for hours.

Every Sunday there's a throng Of pretty girls, who trot along In a pious, breathless state

A little girl and a big ugly man Went down the road.    The girl was crying And asking to go home, but when she ran

I will not know when I am dead If sun or moon is overhead; I'll stretch out flat without a sound

In the winter children go Walking in the fields of snow Where there is no grass at all,

The Protecting Tree Of the men of the land of F'l! What aileth thee,

Listen! If but women were Half as kind as they are fair There would be an end to all

If in winter you shall drive Birds from crumbs, you shall not thrive; But if you feed them, they will fly