Poem by James Joyce (1882-1941)



    Gaunt in gloom,
    The pale stars their torches,
    Enshrouded, wave.
    Ghostfires from heaven's far verges faint illume,
    Arches on soaring arches,
    Night's sindark nave.

    The lost hosts awaken
    To service till
    In moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim,
    Raised when she has and shaken
    Her thurible.

    And long and loud,
    To night's nave upsoaring,
    A starknell tolls
    As the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud,
    Voidward from the adoring
    Waste of souls.



More information on James Joyce

Poetry by Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-10-03 at 00:04

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Proof that Joyce was wise to devote his energies to prose. A lot of people on PoetBay try to write like this. They shouldn't bother.

arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
In my mind, the immediate and main category for James Augustine Aloysius Joyce is 'Novelist.' So this is a great way to bring more facets of his person and life. His use of words is quite exhilarating. Thanks Editorial Team!