#Irish
Rain on Rahoon falls softly, soft… Where my dark lover lies. Sad is his voice that calls me, sa… At grey moonrise. Love, hear thou
I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sigh… No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses,
My dove, my beautiful one, Arise, arise! The night-dew lies Upon my lips and eyes. The odorous winds are weaving
When the shy star goes forth in he… All maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy even One who is singing by your gate. His song is softer than the dew
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...
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...
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
Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn. A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile. And a call, pure, long and throbbing. Longindying cal...
Go seek her out all courteously, And say I come, Wind of spices whose song is ever Epithalamium. O, hurry over the dark lands
My love is in a light attire Among the apple trees, Where the gay winds do most desire To run in companies. There, where the gay winds stay to…
They mouth love’s language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed… Love’s breath in you is stale, wor…
Though I thy Mithridates were, Framed to defy the poison—dart, Yet must thou fold me unaware To know the rapture of thy heart, And I but render and confess
Winds of May, that dance on the s… Dancing a ring—around in glee From furrow to furrow, while overh… The foam flies up to be garlanded, In silvery arches spanning the air…
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!
Dear heart, why will you use me so… Dear eyes that gently me upbraid, Still are you beautiful – but O, How is your beauty raimented! Through the clear mirror of your e…