Having read nearly all of Joyce's prose fairly recently, I understand now why so few praise his verse. It's odd, because it seems to me that Joyce did not spend half the reflected time considering structure and language of verse in the same manner as he approaches his prosaic narrative structures or philosophies of language use.

For that, then, this collection is eminently approachable by virtually all readers, easier to absorb even than Dubliners, which I suspect is a relief to many. But this places him in the broad realm of traditional (and often mediocre) poets, having little original to say and little said in an original way. The first collection (or single major work) is called "Chamber Music," and it is a long series of short poems which might be read together as the rise and debilitation of a romantic relationship. Each speaks much as one of the Romantic Age might predict.

Only the second section, "Pomes Penyeach" begins to approach the linguistic anxiety and passion which we find in his prose. Even here, however, the works are so brief as to feel experiments or tentative reaches into nuance. Joyce, oddly, is uncertain in his steps, less certain of what he believes his verse might convey.  The final poem, "Ecce Puer," feels conclusive only in its dismal tone so far difference from the rest of the collection. 

What are we to make of this? We know that Ezra Pound would not publish many of these (not in and of itself a condemnation, however). What we have is writing for a Joyce completionist (that would be me) but a reading as curiosity more than illumination.