Poetry from James Joyce: "I Would In That Sweet Bosom Be"

WHEN THE SHY STAR GOES FORTH IN HEAVEN
James Joyce

When the shy star goes forth in heaven
All maidenly, disconsolate,
Hear you amid the drowsy even
One who is singing by your gate.
His song is softer than the dew
And he is come to visit you.

O bend no more in revery
When he at eventide is calling,
Nor muse: Who may this singer be
Whose song about my heart is falling?
Know you by this, the lover's chant,
'Tis I that am your visitant.

THE EEL
Ogden Nash


I don't mind eels
Except as meals.
And the way they feels.

gus, are you saying that Joyce and Nash were one and the same? That's the weirdest conspiracy theory I've ever heard.

Poetically speaking, yes they were the same.

But they were two separate human beings.

(I thought you knew that)

Gus may be right.

*Silence*


Well, you never see them in the same room!

Because your voice was at my side
I gave him pain,
Because within my hand I held
Your hand again.

There is no word nor any sign
Can make amend--
He is a stranger to me now
Who was my friend.