Chamber Music

XIII

James Joyce


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.


Chamber Music - Contents


Back    |    Words Home    |    James Joyce Home    |    Site Info.    |    Feedback