James Stephens

In The Poppy Field

Mad Patsy said, he said to me, That every morning he could see An angel walking on the sky; Across the sunny skies of morn He threw great handfuls far and nigh Of poppy

In The Cool Of The Evening

I thought I heard Him calling. Did you hear A sound, a little sound? My curious ear Is dinned with flying noises, and the tree Goes whisper, whisper, whisper silently Till all its whispers

Hate

My enemy came nigh, And I Stared fiercely in his face. My lips went writhing back in a grimace, And stern I watched him with a narrow eye. Then, as I turned away, my

The Lonely God

So Eden was deserted, and at eve Into the quiet place God came to grieve. His face was sad, His hands hung slackly down Along his robe; too sorrowful to frown He paced along

The Ancient Elf

I am the maker, The builder, the breaker, The eagle-winged helper, The speedy forsaker! The lance and the lyre, The water, the fire, The tooth of oppression, The lip of desire! The snare and

I heard a bird at dawn

I heard a bird at dawn Singing sweetly on a tree, That the dew was on the lawn, And the wind was on the lea; But I didn’t listen to him, For he didn’t