O Cool Is The Valley Now

O cool is the valley now
And there, love, will we go
For many a choir is singing now
Where Love did sometime go.
And hear you not the thrushes calling,
Calling us away?
O cool and pleasant is the valley
And there, love, will we stay.

James Joyce

James Joyce was an Irish novelist, short story writer, poet, teacher, and literary critic. He is regarded as one of the most influential and important writers of the 20th century. Joyce is best known for his groundbreaking work 'Ulysses' (1922), and for his other significant works including 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man' (1916), 'Finnegans Wake' (1939), and the short story collection 'Dubliners' (1914). He was a key figure in the modernist avant-garde movement.

James Joyce

He Who Hath Glory Lost, Nor Hath

James Joyce, Simple Poetry

Of That So Sweet Imprisonment

James Joyce, Simple Poetry

Tutto è Sciolto

James Joyce, Simple Poetry

Watching The Needleboats At San Sabba

James Joyce, 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.

Now, O Now, In This Brown Land

Now, O now, in this brown land
Where Love did so sweet music make
We two shall wander, hand in hand,
Forbearing for old friendship sake,
Nor grieve because our love was gay
Which now is ended in this way.

A rogue in red and yellow dress
Is knocking, knocking at the tree;
And all around our loneliness
The wind is whistling merrily.
The leaves, they do not sigh at all
When the year takes them in the fall.

Now, O now, we hear no more
The vilanelle and roundelay!
Yet will we kiss, sweetheart, before
We take sad leave at close of day.
Grieve not, sweetheart, for anything,
The year, the year is gathering.

James Joyce

Bright Cap And Streamers

Bright cap and streamers,
He sings in the hollow:
Come follow, come follow,
All you that love.
Leave dreams to the dreamers
That will not after,
That song and laughter
Do nothing move.

With ribbons streaming
He sings the bolder;
In troop at his shoulder
The wild bees hum.
And the time of dreaming
Dreams is over,
As lover to lover,
Sweetheart, I come.

James Joyce

Tilly

He travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they know,
He drives his beasts above Cabra.

The voice tells them home is warm.
They moo and make brute music with their hoofs.
He drives them with a flowering branch before him,
Smoke pluming their foreheads.

Boor, bond of the herd,
Tonight stretch full by the fire!
I bleed by the black stream
For my torn bough!

James Joyce

Sleep Now, O Sleep Now

Sleep now, O sleep now,
O you unquiet heart!
A voice crying Sleep now
Is heard in my heart.

The voice of the winter
Is heard at the door.
O sleep, for the winter
Is crying Sleep no more.

My kiss will give peace now
And quiet to your heart,
Sleep on in peace now,
O you unquiet heart!

James Joyce

O Sweetheart, Hear You

O Sweetheart, hear you
Your lovers tale;
A man shall have sorrow
When friends him fail.

For he shall know then
Friends be untrue
And a little ashes
Their words come to.

But one unto him
Will softly move
And softly woo him
In ways of love.

His hand is under
Her smooth round breast;
So he who has sorrow
Shall have rest.

James Joyce

Love Came To Us In Time Gone By

Love came to us in time gone by
When one at twilight shyly played
And one in fear was standing nigh,
For Love at first is all afraid.

We were grave lovers. Love is past
That had his sweet hours many a one;
Welcome to us now at the last
The ways that we shall go upon.

James Joyce