THE JAMES JOYCE COLLECTION - 5 Books in One Edition. James Joyce

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      Bid adieu to girlish days, Happy Love is come to woo

      Thee and woo thy girlish ways— The zone that doth become thee fair, The snood upon thy yellow hair,

      When thou hast heard his name upon The bugles of the cherubim Begin thou softly to unzone

      Thy girlish bosom unto him And softly to undo the snood

      That is the sign of maidenhood.

XII

      What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet, Of Love in ancient plenilune,

      Glory and stars beneath his feet— A sage that is but kith and kin

      With the comedian Capuchin?

      Believe me rather that am wise

      In disregard of the divine, A glory kindles in those eyes

      Trembles to starlight. Mine, O Mine!

      No more be tears in moon or mist For thee, sweet sentimentalist.

XIII

      Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come,

      Wind of spices whose song is ever Epithalamium.

      O, hurry over the dark lands

      And run upon the sea For seas and lands shall not divide us My love and me.

      Now, wind, of your good courtesy I pray you go,

      And come into her little garden

      And sing at her window; Singing: The bridal wind is blowing For Love is at his noon; And soon will your true love be with you, Soon, O soon.

XIV

      My dove, my beautiful one,

      Arise, arise!

      The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes.

      The odorous winds are weaving

      A music of sighs: Arise, arise,

      My dove, my beautiful one!

      I wait by the cedar tree,

      My sister, my love, White breast of the dove, My breast shall be your bed.

      The pale dew lies

      Like a veil on my head.

      My fair one, my fair dove, Arise, arise!

XV

      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.

      Eastward the gradual dawn prevails Where softly-burning fires appear, Making to tremble all those veils Of grey and golden gossamer.

      While sweetly, gently, secretly, The flowery bells of morn are stirred And the wise choirs of faery

      Begin (innumerous!) to be heard.

XVI

      O cool is the valley now

      And there, love, will we go For many a choir is singing now

      Where Love did sometime go.

      And hear you not the thrushes calling, Calling us away?

      O cool and pleasant is the valley And there, love, will we stay.

XVII

      Because your voice was at my side I gave him pain,

      Because within my hand I held

      Your hand again.

      There is no word nor any sign

      Can make amend—

      He is a stranger to me now

      Who was my friend.

XVIII

      O Sweetheart, hear you

      Your lover’s tale; A man shall have sorrow

      When friends him fail.

      For he shall know then

      Friends be untrue And a little ashes

      Their words come to.

      But one unto him

      Will softly move

      And softly woo him

      In ways of love.

      His hand is under

      Her smooth round breast; So he who has sorrow

      Shall have rest.

XIX

      Be not sad because all men

      Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again— Can they dishonour you?

      They are sadder than all tears;

      Their lives ascend as a continual sigh.

      Proudly answer to their tears:

      As they deny, deny.

XX

      In the dark pine-wood

      I would we lay,

      In deep cool shadow

      At noon of day.

      How sweet to lie there,

      Sweet to kiss,

      Where the great pine-forest

      Enaisled is!

      Thy kiss descending

      Sweeter were

      With a soft tumult

      Of thy hair.

      O unto the pine-wood

      At noon of day

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