THE JAMES JOYCE COLLECTION - 5 Books in One Edition. James Joyce
and antique phrase,
Dearest, my lips wax all too wise; Nor have I known a love whose praise Our piping poets solemnize, Neither a love where may not be
Ever so little falsity.
XXVIII
Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love; Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.
Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how In the grave all love shall sleep: Love is aweary now.
XXIX
Dear heart, why will you use me so?
Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful—but O,
How is your beauty raimented!
Through the clear mirror of your eyes, Through the soft sigh of kiss to kiss, Desolate winds assail with cries The shadowy garden where love is.
And soon shall love dissolved be When over us the wild winds blow— But you, dear love, too dear to me, Alas! why will you use me so?
XXX
Love came to us in time gone by
When one at twilight shyly played And one in fear was standing nigh— For Love at first is all afraid.
We were grave lovers. Love is past That had his sweet hours many a one; Welcome to us now at the last
The ways that we shall go upon.
XXXI
O, it was out by Donnycarney
When the bat flew from tree to tree My love and I did walk together; And sweet were the words she said to me.
Along with us the summer wind
Went murmuring—O, happily!— But softer than the breath of summer Was the kiss she gave to me.
XXXII
Rain has fallen all the day.
O come among the laden trees: The leaves lie thick upon the way Of memories.
Staying a little by the way
Of memories shall we depart.
Come, my beloved, where I may
Speak to your heart.
XXXIII
Now, O now, in this brown land
Where Love did so sweet music make We two shall wander, hand in hand, Forbearing for old friendship’ sake, Nor grieve because our love was gay Which now is ended in this way.
A rogue in red and yellow dress
Is knocking, knocking at the tree; And all around our loneliness
The wind is whistling merrily.
The leaves—they do not sigh at all When the year takes them in the fall.
Now, O now, we hear no more
The vilanelle and roundelay!
Yet will we kiss, sweetheart, before We take sad leave at close of day.
Grieve not, sweetheart, for anything— The year, the year is gathering.
XXXIV
Sleep now, O sleep now,
O you unquiet heart!
A voice crying “Sleep now”
Is heard in my heart.
The voice of the winter
Is heard at the door.
O sleep, for the winter
Is crying “Sleep no more.”
My kiss will give peace now
And quiet to your heart— Sleep on in peace now,
O you unquiet heart!
XXXV
All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan,
Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone,
He hears the winds cry to the water’s Monotone.
The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing Where I go.
I hear the noise of many waters
Far below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing To and fro.
XXXVI
I hear an army charging upon the land, And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees: Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand, Disdaining the reins, with fluttering ships, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name: I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame, Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair: They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?
Dubliners