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

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

Beresford Place (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The Fifteen Acres (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

James Stephens, Simple Poetry

The Weavers

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

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

The Fifteen Acres (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

        I cling and swing
        On a branch, or sing
    Through the cool, clear hush of Morning, O:
        Or fling my wing
        On the air, and bring
    To sleepier birds a warning, O:
        That the night's in flight,
        And the sun's in sight,
    And the dew is the grass adorning, O:
        And the green leaves swing
        As I sing, sing, sing,
            Up by the river,
                Down the dell,
            To the little wee nest,
                Where the big tree fell,
            So early in the morning, O.

        I flit and twit
        In the sun for a bit
    When his light so bright is shining, O:
        Or sit and fit
        My plumes, or knit
    Straw plaits for the nest's nice lining, ...

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

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

Holles Street (The Rocky Road To Dublin)

    Through the air,
    Everywhere, the rain is falling;
    Brawling on house and tree:
    On every place that you can see
    The rain drops go;
    The roofs are wet, the walls, the ground below.

    Midnight has come;
    Now all the people stretch them blind and dumb
    Each in a bed
    Save I, who sit and listen overhead
    Unto the rain
    Splashing upon the roof and window-pane.

    Midnight! and I
    Can get no sleep, nor can the sky.

James Stephens