The Bare Trees (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    Unfortunates, on the bare tree!
    I mourn for ye
    That have no place to house,
    But on those winter-white cold boughs
        To sit,
        (How far apart ye sit)
    And brood
    In this wide, wintry solitude
        That has no song at all to hearten it.

    Fly away, little birds!
        Fly away to Spain,
    Stay there all the winter
        Then come back again;
    Come back in the summer
        When the leaves are thick;
    Little weeny cold birds
        Fly away quick.

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

Custom House Quay (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The Gang

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

Sweet-Apple

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

From Hawk And Kite (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.

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

The College Of Surgeons (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    As I stood at the door
        Sheltered out of the wind,
    Something flew in
        Which I hardly could find.

    In the dim, gloomy doorway
        I searched till I found
    A dry withered leaf
        Lying down on the ground.

    With thin, pointed claws
        And a dry dusty skin,,
    Sure a hall is no place
        For a leaf to be in!

    Oh where is your tree,
        And your summer and all,
    Poor dusty leaf
        Whistled into a hall?

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

White Fields (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    In the winter children go
    Walking in the fields of snow
    Where there is no grass at all,
    And the top of every wall,
    Every fence, and every tree
    Is as white as white can be.

    Pointing out the way they came,
    (Every one of them the same)
    All across the fields there be
    Prints in silver filigree;
    And their mothers find them so
    By the footprints in the snow.

James Stephens

Katty Gollagher (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    The hill is bare: I only find
        The grass, the sky, and one small tree
    Tossing wildly on the wind;
        And that is all there is to see:
    A tree, a hill, a wind, a sky
    Where nothing ever passes by.

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