Chamber Music: Large Print James Joyce Author
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When the shy star goes forth in heavenAll maidenly, disconsolate,Hear you amid the drowsy evenOne who is singing by your gate.His song is softer than the dewAnd he is come to visit you.O bend no more in reveryWhen he at eventide is calling,Nor muse: Who may this singer beWhose song about my heart is falling?Know you by this, the lover's chant,'Tis I that am your visitant.10VLean out of the window,Goldenhair,I hear you singingA merry air.My book was closed,I read no more,Watching the fire danceOn the floor.I have left my book,I have left my room,For I heard you singingThrough the gloom.Singing and singingA merry air,Lean out of the window,Goldenhair.11VII would in that sweet bosom be(O sweet it is and fair it is!)Where no rude wind might visit me.Because of sad austeritiesI 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 sweeterSo I were ever in that heart.

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