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James Joyce

O Cool Is the Valley Now

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.

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Autres oeuvres par James Joyce ...
Ulysses: I – Proteus

Ineluctable modality of the visibl… Stephen closed his eyes to hear hi… Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. A… Open your eyes now. I will. One m… See now. There all the time witho…
Night Piece

Gaunt in gloom, The pale stars their torches, Enshrouded, wave. Ghostfires from heaven’s far verge… Arches on soaring arches,
Bahnhofstrasse

The eyes that mock me sign the way Whereto I pass at eve of day. Grey way whose violet signals are The trysting and the twining star. Ah star of evil! star of pain!
Though I Thy Mithridates Were

Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison—dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess
When the Shy Star Goes Forth in Heaven

When the shy star goes forth in he… All maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy even One who is singing by your gate. His song is softer than the dew
Tutto è Sciolto

A birdless heaven, seadusk, one lo… Piercing the west, As thou, fond heart, love’s time,… Rememberest. The clear young eyes’ soft look, t…
Ecce Puer

Of the dark past A child is born; With joy and grief My heart is torn. Calm in his cradle
 1
Ulysses: II – Sirens

Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons… Chips, picking chips off rocky thu… Horrid! And gold flushed more. A husky fifenote blew. Blew. Blue bloom is on the.
Love Came to Us

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 pas…
 1
All Day I Hear the Noise of Waters

All day I hear the noise of water… Making moan, Sad as the sea—bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the wate…
 1
Go Seek Her Out

Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come, Wind of spices whose song is ever Epithalamium. O, hurry over the dark lands
Silently She’s Combing

Silently she’s combing, Combing her long hair Silently and graciously, With many a pretty air. The sun is in the willow leaves
 1
Of That So Sweet Imprisonment

Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain —— Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there
At That Hour

At that hour when all things have… O lonely watcher of the skies, Do you hear the night wind and the… Of harps playing unto Love to unc… The pale gates of sunrise?
 1
He Who Hath Glory Lost

He Who Hath Glory Lost He who hath glory lost, nor hath Found any soul to fellow his, Among his foes in scorn and wrath Holding to ancient nobleness,



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