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A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lone
Piercing the west,
As thou, fond heart, love's time, so faint, so far,
Rememberest.
The clear young eyes' soft look, the candid brow,
The fragrant hair,
Falling as through the silence falleth
Dusk of the air.
Why then, remembering those
Sweet lures,
When the dear love she yielded with a
Was all but thine?
James Joyce
James Augustine Aloysius Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941) was an Irish novelist, short story writer, poet, teacher, and literary critic
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Now O Now in This Brown Land
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
From Dewy Dreams
From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, From love's deep slumber and from death, For lo the trees are full of sighs Whose leaves the morn admonisheth
Of That So Sweet Imprisonment
Of that so sweet My soul, dearest, is fain — -Soft arms that woo me to And woo me to detain Ah, could they ever hold me
Silently Shes Combing
Silently she's combing, Combing her long hair Silently and graciously, With many a pretty air The sun is in the willow leaves And on the dappled grass,
