Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river

He travels after a winter sun, Urging the cattle along a cold red… Calling to them, a voice they know… He drives his beasts above Cabra. The voice tells them home is warm.

O Sweetheart, hear you Your lover’s tale; A man shall have sorrow When friends him fail. For he shall know then

Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried henco...

Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, Bid adieu to girlish days, Happy Love is come to woo Thee and woo thy girlish ways— The zone that doth become thee fai…

Gaunt in gloom, The pale stars their torches, Enshrouded, wave. Ghostfires from heaven’s far verge… Arches on soaring arches,

Before Nelson’s pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure, Palmerston Park and upper Rathmines, Sandymou...

He Who Hath Glory Lost He who hath glory lost, nor hath Found any soul to fellow his, Among his foes in scorn and wrath Holding to ancient nobleness,

Lightly come or lightly go: Though thy heart presage thee woe, Vales and many a wasted sun, Oread let thy laughter run, Till the irreverent mountain air

Again! Come, give, yield all your stre… From far a low word breathes on th… Its cruel calm, submission’s miser… Gentling her awe as to a soul pred…

Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty b...

I would in that sweet bosom be (O sweet it is and fair it is!) Where no rude wind might visit me. Because of sad austerities I would in that sweet bosom be.