chamber Music James Joyce Part 2

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.

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.

Part 1

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.

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!

Part 2

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.