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

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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

       Table of Contents

       The Sisters

       An Encounter

       Araby

       Eveline

       After the Race

       Two Gallants

       The Boarding House

       A Little Cloud

       Counterparts

       Clay

       A Painful Case

       Ivy Day In The Committee Room

       A Mother

       Grace

       The Dead

      The Sisters

      There was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke. Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the darkened blind, for I knew that two candles must be set at the head of a corpse. He had often said to me: I am not long for this world and I had thought his words idle. Now I knew they were true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some maleficent and sinful being. It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to be nearer to it and to look upon its deadly work.

      Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came downstairs to supper. While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout he said, as if returning to some former remark of his:

      —No, I wouldn’t say he was exactly… but there was something queer… there was something uncanny about him. I’ll tell you my opinion…

      He began to puff at his pipe, no doubt arranging his opinion in his mind. Tiresome old fool! When we knew him first he used to be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms, but I soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery.

      —I СКАЧАТЬ