By Ana Liffey (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    If you come to live with me,
    I will sing so heartily
    In your honour that you will
    Stay to wonder at my skill.

    In your honour I will fill
    The world with songs of triumph, till
    You and I and Time are old
    Pipers of the Age of Gold.

    Time and you and I will hold,
    Everywhere by field and fold,
    Concerts of content, and be
    Known afar for jollity.

    Everywhere by fold and field
    We will wander well-agreed;
    So I sing right heartily,
    Come along and live with me.

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

Nancy Walsh

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

Custom House Quay (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The Shadow (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The College Of Surgeons (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

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.

York Street (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    If in winter you shall drive
    Birds from crumbs, you shall not thrive;
    But if you feed them, they will fly
    To sing it sweetly on the sky.

    So throw up the window, and
    Scatter with a lavish hand,
    Taking care you do not spill
    Flower-pots from the window-sill,

    Singing, "Ireland shall be free
    From the centre to the sea";
    Singing bravely once again,
    "We are Dan O'Connell's Men."

James Stephens

The Piper (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

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

    Should it rain do not forbear,
        Rain comes from the happy sky,
    Tune us now a quiet air
        Till the shower passes by.

    Back the sun will come in gold!
        Pipe away, my dear, until
    Evening brings the lambs to fold,
        You may weep then if you will.

James Stephens

Merrion Square (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    Grey clouds on the tinted sky,
    A drifting moon, a quiet breeze
    Drooping mournfully to cry
    In the branches of the trees.

    The crying wind, the sighing trees,
    The ruffled stars, the darkness falling
    Down the sky, and on the breeze
    A belated linnet calling.

James Stephens

Donnybrook (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    I saw the moon so broad and bright
    Sailing high on a frosty night:

    And the air swung far and far between
    The silver disc and the orb of green:

    While here and there a wisp of white
    Cloud-film swam on the misty light:

    And crusted thickly on the sky,
    High and higher and yet more high,

    Were golden star-points dusted through
    The great, wide, silent vault of blue:

    Then I said to me, God is good
    And the world is fair, and where I stood

    I knelt me down and bent my head,
    And said my prayers, and went to bed.

James Stephens

At The Fair (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

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

    See the greedy gombeen-man
    Taking everything he can
    From man and woman, dog and cat,
    And the lark does not like that.

James Stephens

Mount Street (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    Here and there on the wings of night
    A fleck of blue and purple light,
    A scrap of cloud, a bird, a star,
    A comet hurrying afar
    On the abyss, and the moon
    Standing in her silver shoon.

    On the summit of the sky,
    Delicate and proud and high,
    The silver moon on a silver sea
    Spins her silver broidery
    While the stars send down a light
    Here and there on the wings of night.

James Stephens