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\title{Chamber Music}
\date{1907}
\author{James Joyce}
\subtitle{}
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\begin{document}
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\section{I}
\begin{verse}
Strings in the earth and air \\{}
Make music sweet; \\{}
Strings by the river where \\{}
The willows meet.
There’s music along the river \\{}
For Love wanders there, \\{}
Pale flowers on his mantle, \\{}
Dark leaves on his hair.
All softly playing, \\{}
With head to the music bent, \\{}
And fingers straying \\{}
Upon an instrument.
\end{verse}
\section{II}
\begin{verse}
The twilight turns from amethyst \\{}
To deep and deeper blue, \\{}
The lamp fills with a pale green glow \\{}
The trees of the avenue.
The old piano plays an air, \\{}
Sedate and slow and gay; \\{}
She bends upon the yellow keys, \\{}
Her head inclines this way.
Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands \\{}
That wander as they list— \\{}
The twilight turns to darker blue \\{}
With lights of amethyst.
\end{verse}
\section{III}
\begin{verse}
At that hour when all things have repose, \\{}
O lonely watcher of the skies, \\{}
Do you hear the night wind and the sighs \\{}
Of harps playing unto Love to unclose \\{}
The pale gates of sunrise?
When all things repose, do you alone \\{}
Awake to hear the sweet harps play \\{}
To Love before him on his way, \\{}
And the night wind answering in antiphon \\{}
Till night is overgone?
Play on, invisible harps, unto Love, \\{}
Whose way in heaven is aglow \\{}
At that hour when soft lights come and go, \\{}
Soft sweet music in the air above \\{}
And in the earth below.
\end{verse}
\section{IV}
\begin{verse}
When the shy star goes forth in heaven \\{}
All maidenly, disconsolate, \\{}
Hear you amid the drowsy even \\{}
One who is singing by your gate. \\{}
His song is softer than the dew \\{}
And he is come to visit you.
O bend no more in revery \\{}
When he at eventide is calling, \\{}
Nor muse: Who may this singer be \\{}
Whose song about my heart is falling? \\{}
Know you by this, the lover’s chant, \\{}
’Tis I that am your visitant.
\end{verse}
\section{V}
\begin{verse}
Lean out of the window, \\{}
Goldenhair, \\{}
I hear you singing \\{}
A merry air.
My book was closed, \\{}
I read no more, \\{}
Watching the fire dance \\{}
On the floor.
I have left my book, \\{}
I have left my room, \\{}
For I heard you singing \\{}
Through the gloom.
Singing and singing \\{}
A merry air, \\{}
Lean out of the window, \\{}
Goldenhair.
\end{verse}
\section{VI}
\begin{verse}
I would in that sweet bosom be \\{}
(O sweet it is and fair it is!) \\{}
Where no rude wind might visit me. \\{}
Because of sad austerities \\{}
I would in that sweet bosom be.
I would be ever in that heart \\{}
(O soft I knock and soft entreat her!) \\{}
Where only peace might be my part. \\{}
Austerities were all the sweeter \\{}
So I were ever in that heart.
\end{verse}
\section{VII}
\begin{verse}
My love is in a light attire \\{}
Among the apple-trees, \\{}
Where the gay winds do most desire \\{}
To run in companies.
There, where the gay winds stay to woo \\{}
The young leaves as they pass, \\{}
My love goes slowly, bending to \\{}
Her shadow on the grass;
And where the sky’s a pale blue cup \\{}
Over the laughing land, \\{}
My love goes lightly, holding up \\{}
Her dress with dainty hand.
\end{verse}
\section{VIII}
\begin{verse}
Who goes amid the green wood \\{}
With springtide all adorning her? \\{}
Who goes amid the merry green wood \\{}
To make it merrier?
Who passes in the sunlight \\{}
By ways that know the light footfall? \\{}
Who passes in the sweet sunlight \\{}
With mien so virginal?
The ways of all the woodland \\{}
Gleam with a soft and golden fire— \\{}
For whom does all the sunny woodland \\{}
Carry so brave attire?
O, it is for my true love \\{}
The woods their rich apparel wear— \\{}
O, it is for my own true love, \\{}
That is so young and fair.
\end{verse}
\section{IX}
\begin{verse}
Winds of May, that dance on the sea, \\{}
Dancing a ring-around in glee \\{}
From furrow to furrow, while overhead \\{}
The foam flies up to be garlanded, \\{}
In silvery arches spanning the air, \\{}
Saw you my true love anywhere? \\{}
Welladay! Welladay! \\{}
For the winds of May! \\{}
Love is unhappy when love is away!
\end{verse}
\section{X}
\begin{verse}
Bright cap and streamers, \\{}
He sings in the hollow: \\{}
Come follow, come follow, \\{}
All you that love. \\{}
Leave dreams to the dreamers \\{}
That will not after, \\{}
That song and laughter \\{}
Do nothing move.
With ribbons streaming \\{}
He sings the bolder; \\{}
In troop at his shoulder \\{}
The wild bees hum. \\{}
And the time of dreaming \\{}
Dreams is over— \\{}
As lover to lover, \\{}
Sweetheart, I come.
\end{verse}
\section{XI}
\begin{verse}
Bid adieu, adieu, adieu, \\{}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XIII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XIV}
\begin{verse}
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!
\end{verse}
\section{XV}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XVI}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XVII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XVIII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XIX}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XX}
\begin{verse}
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 \\{}
Come with me now, \\{}
Sweet love, away.
\end{verse}
\section{XXI}
\begin{verse}
He who hath glory lost, nor hath \\{}
Found any soul to fellow his, \\{}
Among his foes in scorn and wrath \\{}
Holding to ancient nobleness, \\{}
That high unconsortable one— \\{}
His love is his companion.
\end{verse}
\section{XXII}
\begin{verse}
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 \\{}
Gladly were I a prisoner!
Dearest, through interwoven arms \\{}
By love made tremulous, \\{}
That night allures me where alarms \\{}
Nowise may trouble us; \\{}
But sleep to dreamier sleep be wed \\{}
Where soul with soul lies prisoned.
\end{verse}
\section{XXIII}
\begin{verse}
This heart that flutters near my heart \\{}
My hope and all my riches is, \\{}
Unhappy when we draw apart \\{}
And happy between kiss and kiss; \\{}
My hope and all my riches—yes!— \\{}
And all my happiness.
For there, as in some mossy nest \\{}
The wrens will divers treasures keep, \\{}
I laid those treasures I possessed \\{}
Ere that mine eyes had learned to weep. \\{}
Shall we not be as wise as they \\{}
Though love live but a day?
\end{verse}
\section{XXIV}
\begin{verse}
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, \\{}
And still she’s combing her long hair \\{}
Before the looking-glass.
I pray you, cease to comb out, \\{}
Comb out your long hair, \\{}
For I have heard of witchery \\{}
Under a pretty air,
That makes as one thing to the lover \\{}
Staying and going hence, \\{}
All fair, with many a pretty air \\{}
And many a negligence.
\end{verse}
\section{XXV}
\begin{verse}
Lightly come or lightly go: \\{}
Though thy heart presage thee woe, \\{}
Vales and many a wasted sun, \\{}
Oread let thy laughter run \\{}
Till the irreverent mountain air \\{}
Ripple all thy flying hair.
Lightly, lightly—ever so: \\{}
Clouds that wrap the vales below \\{}
At the hour of evenstar \\{}
Lowliest attendants are; \\{}
Love and laughter song-confessed \\{}
When the heart is heaviest.
\end{verse}
\section{XXVI}
\begin{verse}
Thou leanest to the shell of night, \\{}
Dear lady, a divining ear. \\{}
In that soft choiring of delight \\{}
What sound hath made thy heart to fear? \\{}
Seemed it of rivers rushing forth \\{}
From the grey deserts of the north?
That mood of thine, O timorous, \\{}
Is his, if thou but scan it well, \\{}
Who a mad tale bequeaths to us \\{}
At ghosting hour conjurable— \\{}
And all for some strange name he read \\{}
In Purchas or in Holinshed.
\end{verse}
\section{XXVII}
\begin{verse}
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 \\{}
The malice of thy tenderness.
For elegant 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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXVIII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXIX}
\begin{verse}
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?
\end{verse}
\section{XXX}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXXI}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXXII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXXIII}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXXIV}
\begin{verse}
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!
\end{verse}
\section{XXXV}
\begin{verse}
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.
\end{verse}
\section{XXXVI}
\begin{verse}
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 whips, 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?
\end{verse}
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The Anarchist Library (Mirror)
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James Joyce
Chamber Music
1907
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Retrieved on 23\textsuperscript{rd} August 2021 from \href{https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2817}{www.gutenberg.org}
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\textbf{usa.anarchistlibraries.net}
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