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Joyce's first book was Chamber Music (1907), a sequence of thirty-six poems heavily romantic in feeling and traditional in style. Within their limited intentions, they were quite skillful and often beautiful, and have—unsurprisingly, given their manner and their title—been frequently set to music.

They reflect the influence of Elizabethan lyricists and the English lyric poets of the 1890s. They also reflect Joyce’s love of the vocal music that influenced all his writing, and is especially evident in his later works that lend themselves particularly well to being read aloud. Although he had rejected Dublin and Catholicism, both were central to his writing. Irish publishers, in particular, repeatedly rejected his work on the grounds that it was libellous and blasphemous. He earned a living from jobs as a language instructor, through writing articles for various newspapers, and from gifts made by friends and later patrons. W. B. Yeats and Ezra Pound were two supporters who used their influence to find publishers willing to take Joyce’s work.

The poems begin with an enchanting musical prelude (Poems I – III), three poems which invoke themes of nature, music and love. As the poet goes on to woo his love, the poems grow a little more detailed, occasionally shifting into an Elizabethan mode. After finally winning her in Poem XI, especially notable for the use of the words "snood," "unzone," and "maidenhood" in the same verse, we sense that Celtic twilight descending as the poet and his lover wander across dark starry lands and dewy gardens, in love, harking to the wise choirs of faery. Ah, but this is Joyce, after all, and trouble rears its head as the poet's jealous friend confounds their love throughout Poem XVII – XVII. There is a split, and the young maiden is dishonored (Poem XIX) until the poet declares his love above all else (Poem XXI). After that, however, their love loses some of the lyrical innocence that marked its beginning, and the poems grow increasingly more bittersweet. Eventually – and here we split from autobiography, for Nora remained with Joyce – the poet's lover drifts apart from him, and by Poem XXVIII things are looking pretty grim. By Poem XXX it is all over, and the poet muses on his lost love as the year winds to a chilly end. The last three poems find the poet alone, crying his melancholy to the winter and the unquiet sea. Finally, in Poem XXXVI, this despair is voiced in a very Yeatsian vision of an onrushing army. This final poem – a very good piece, and perhaps the best in the collection – is as far away from the first poem as a mournful Irish lament is from a merry Elizabethan air.

I	Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet;
II	The twilight turns from amethyst To deep and deeper blue,
III	At that hour when all things have repose, O lonely watcher of the skies,
IV	When the shy star goes forth in heaven All maidenly, disconsolate,
V	Lean out of the window, Goldenhair,
VI	I would in that sweet bosom be (O sweet it is and fair it is!)
VII	My love is in a light attire Among the apple-trees,
VIII	Who goes amid the green wood With springtide all adorning her?
IX	Winds of May, that dance on the sea, Dancing a ring-around in glee
X	Bright cap and streamers, He sings in the hollow:
XI	Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, Bid adieu to girlish days,
XII	What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet,
XIII	Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come,
XIV	My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise!
XV	From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love's deep slumber and from death,
XVI	O cool is the valley now And there, love, will we go
XVII	Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain,
XVIII	O Sweetheart, hear you Your lover's tale;
XIX	Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you:
XX	In the dark pine-wood I would we lay,
XXI	He who hath glory lost, nor hath Found any soul to fellow his,
XXII	Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain -- -
XXIII	This heart that flutters near my heart My hope and all my riches is,
XXIV	Silently she's combing, Combing her long hair
XXV	Lightly come or lightly go: Though thy heart presage thee woe,
XXVI	Thou leanest to the shell of night, Dear lady, a divining ear.
XXVII	Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison-dart,
XXVIII	Gentle lady, do not sing Sad songs about the end of love;
XXIX	Dear heart, why will you use me so? Dear eyes that gently me upbraid,
XXX	Love came to us in time gone by When one at twilight shyly played
XXXI	O, it was out by Donnycarney When the bat flew from tree to tree
XXXII	Rain has fallen all the day. O come among the laden trees:
XXXIII	Now, O now, in this brown land Where Love did so sweet music make
XXXIV	Sleep now, O sleep now, O you unquiet heart!
XXXV	All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan,
XXXVI	I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:

First edition London: Elkin Mathews, 1907

Chamber Music
by James Joyce

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

XXV

XXVI

XXVII

XXVIII

XXIX

XXX

XXXI

XXXII

XXXIII

XXXIV

XXXV

XXXVI

First edition London: Elkin Mathews, 1907

Chamber Music by James Joyce

Chamber Music
by James Joyce