Poem by James Joyce

Tilly

He travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they know,
He drives his beasts above Cabra.

The voice tells them home is warm.
They moo and make brute music with their hoofs.
He drives them with a flowering branch before him,
Smoke pluming their foreheads.

Boor, bond of the herd,
Tonight stretch full by the fire!
I bleed by the black stream
For my torn bough!

1. Chamber Music. 25. Lightly Come or Lightly Go
2. Chamber Music. 11. Bid Adieu, Adieu, Adieu
3. Chamber Music. 13. Go Seek Her Out All Courteously
4. Nightpiece
5. Chamber Music. 7. My Love Is in a Light Attire

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