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Five Songs by James Joyce

Song Cycle by Gerard Victory (1921-)


?. Bright cap and streamers

Language: English

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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.


?. From dewy dreams, my soul, arise

Language: English

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From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,
    From love's deep slumber and from death, 
For lo! the treees 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.


?. Goldenhair

Language: English

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):


Lean out of the window,
  Goldenhair,
I heard you singing
  A merry air.

My book is 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.

Input by Ted Perry


?. Sleep now, O sleep now

Language: English

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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!


?. Silently she's combing

Language: English

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Available translations (or transliterations, if applicable):


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.


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