#Irish
Of the dark past A child is born; With joy and grief My heart is torn. Calm in his cradle
Goldbrown upon the sated flood The rockvine clusters lift and swa… Vast wings above the lambent water… Of sullen day. A waste of waters ruthlessly
Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come, Wind of spices whose song is ever Epithalamium. O, hurry over the dark lands
What parallel courses did Bloom and Stephen follow returning? Starting united both at normal walking pace from Beresford place they followed in the order named Lower and Middle Gardiner...
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;
My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes. The odorous winds are weaving
All day I hear the noise of water… Making moan, Sad as the sea-bird is when, going Forth alone, He hears the winds cry to the wate…
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
Silently she’s combing, Combing her long hair Silently and graciously, With many a pretty air. The sun is in the willow leaves
The eyes that mock me sign the way Whereto I pass at eve of day. Grey way whose violet signals are The trysting and the twining star. Ah star of evil! star of pain!
By Lorries along sir John Rogerson’s quay Mr Bloom walked soberly, past Windmill lane, Leask’s the linseed crusher, the postal telegraph office. Could have given that address too. And p...
Bright cap and streamers, He sings in the hollow: Come follow, come follow, All you that love. Leave dreams to the dreamers
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 pas…
Have you heard of one Humpty Dump… How he fell with a roll and a rumb… And curled up like Lord Olofa Cr… By the butt of the Magazine Wall, (Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried henco...