April Showers (The Adventures Of Seumas Beg)

    The leaves are fresh after the rain,
        The air is cool and clear,
    The sun is shining warm again,
        The sparrows hopping in the lane
    Are brisk and full of cheer.

    And that is why we dance and play,
        And that is why we sing,
    Calling out in voices gay,
        We will not go to school to-day
    Or learn anything:

    It is a happy thing, I say,
    To be alive on such a day.

James Stephens

James Stephens was an Irish novelist and poet, whose literary output includes many retellings of Irish myths and fairy tales. He was born on February 9, 1880, and passed away on December 26, 1950. Notable works include 'The Crock of Gold' and 'The Demi-Gods'. Stephens also wrote several well-regarded collections of poetry, including 'The Hill of Vision' and 'Insurrections'. His work is characterized by a blend of myth, fantasy, and modernism, capturing the spirit and culture of Ireland.

James Stephens

Holles Street (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

In Woods And Meadows

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

Egan O'Rahilly

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The Weavers

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

A Rainy Day In April

When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain
Like holy water falls upon the plain,
'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain
And see your harvest born.

And sweet the little breeze of melody
The blackbird puffs upon the budding tree,
While the wild poppy lights upon the lea
And blazes 'mid the corn.

The skylark soars the freshening shower to hail,
And the meek daisy holds aloft her pail,
And Spring all radiant by the wayside pale
Sets up her rock and reel.

See how she weaves her mantle fold on fold,
Hemming the woods and carpeting the wold.
Her warp is of the green, her woof the gold,
The spinning world her wheel.

Francis Ledwidge

Day And Night (The Adventures Of Seumas Beg)

    When the bright eyes of the day
        Open on the dusk, to see
    Mist and shadow fade away
        And the sun shine merrily,
    Then I leave my bed and run
    Out to frolic in the sun.

    Through the sunny hours I play
        Where the stream is wandering,
    Plucking daisies by the way;
        And I laugh and dance and sing,
    While the birds fly here and there
    Singing on the sunny air.

    When the night comes, cold and slow,
        And the sad moon walks the sky,
    When the whispering wind says "Boh,
        Little boy!" and makes me cry,
    By my mother I am led
    Home again and put to bed.

James Stephens

The Summer Shower.

The eve is still and silent and above the tinted plain
The passing clouds are driving gentle showers of summer rain,
And the scent of hay-strewn meadows and the fresh-besprinkled ground
Is mingling with the perfume of the flowers that bloom around.

Off I wander and I stroke the gleeful spaniel at my side,
And, delighted with each other, do we ramble far and wide,
While a ditty is the tribute to the joy that gives it birth,
And the leaves, refreshed, are pouring their cool nectar to the earth.

Oh let me gaze again upon the moisture-laden sky,
Let me see the rolling masses, let me hear the plover's cry,
While enveloping the distant mountain-summits like a shroud,
Like a head bent down and hoary, hangs a heavy wreath of cloud.

Let me gaze upon the sunshine as it br...

Lennox Amott

The Cherry Tree (The Adventures Of Seumas Beg)

    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;
        If not, assist you them, and make them fair
    As is the morning and the morning sky,
        And every tree and bush and bird in air.

    The sun climbed on the heights three hours ago,
        He laughed above the hills and they were glad;
    With bubbled pearl he made the rivers flow
        And laced their mists in silver, and he clad
    The meads in fragrant pomp of green and gold,
        And bade the world forget it had been sad.

    So lift yourself, good sir! and you, sweet dame,
        Unlash your evening eyes of pious grey;
    Call on the children by each loved name,
 ...

James Stephens

The Daisies
In the scented bud of the morning - O,
When the windy grass went rippling far,
I saw my dear one walking slow
In the field where the daisies are.

We did not laugh and we did not speak
As we wandered happily to and fro;
I kissed my dear on either cheek
In the bud of the morning - O.

A lark sang up from the breezy land,
A lark sang down from a cloud afar,
And she and I went hand in hand
In the field where the daisies are.
James Stephens

The Adventurers
Over the downs in sunlight clear
Forth we went in the spring of the year:
Plunder of April's gold we sought,
Little of April's anger thought.

Caught in a copse without defence
Low we crouched to the rain-squall dense:
Sure, if misery man can vex,
There it beat on our bended necks.

Yet when again we wander on
Suddenly all that gloom is gone:
Under and over through the wood,
Life is astir, and life is good.

Violets purple, violets white,
Delicate windflowers dancing light,
Primrose, mercury, moscatel,
Shimmer in diamonds round the dell.

Squirrel is climbing swift and lithe,
Chiff-chaff whetting his airy scythe,
Woodpecker whirrs his rattling rap,
...
Henry John Newbolt