Chamber Music

By

James Joyce

www.freeclassicebooks.com

Contents With First Lines

I       Strings in the earth and air. 4

II       The twilight turns from amethyst. 5

III       At that hour when all things have repose. 6

IV       When the shy star goes forth in heaven. 7

V       Lean out of the window.. 8

VI       I would in that sweet bosom be. 9

VII       My love is in a light attire. 10

VIII       Who goes amid the green wood. 11

IX       Winds of May, that dance on the sea. 12

X       Bright cap and streamers, 13

XI       Bid adieu, adieu, adieu. 14

XII       What counsel has the hooded moon. 15

XIII       Go seek her out all courteously, 16

XIV       My dove, my beautiful one, 17

XV       From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, 18

XVI       O cool is the valley now.. 19

XVII       Because your voice was at my side. 20

XVIII       O Sweetheart, hear you. 21

IX       Be not sad because all men. 22

XX       In the dark pine-wood. 23

XXI       He who hath glory lost, nor. 24

XXII       Of that so sweet imprisonment. 25

XXIII       This heart that flutters near my heart. 26

XXIV       Silently she's combing, 27

XXV       Lightly come or lightly go. 28

XXVI       Thou leanest to the shell of night. 29

XXVII       Though I thy Mithridates were, 30

XXVIII       Gentle lady, do not sing. 31

XXIX       Dear heart, why will you use me so?. 32

XXX       Love came to us in time gone by. 33

XXXI       O, it was out by Donnycarney. 34

XXXII       Rain has fallen all the day. 35

XXXIII       Now, O now, in this brown land. 36

XXXIV       Sleep now, O sleep now.. 37

XXXVI       I hear an army charging upon the land. 39

CHAMBER MUSIC

I       Strings in the earth and air      Make music sweet;      Strings by the river where      The willows meet.

There's music along the river      For Love wanders there,      Pale flowers on his mantle,      Dark leaves on his hair.

All softly playing,      With head to the music bent,      And fingers straying      Upon an instrument.

II       The twilight turns from amethyst      To deep and deeper blue,      The lamp fills with a pale green glow      The trees of the avenue.

The old piano plays an air,      Sedate and slow and gay;      She bends upon the yellow keys,      Her head inclines this way.

Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands      That wander as they list—      The twilight turns to darker blue      With lights of amethyst.

III       At that hour when all things have repose,      O lonely watcher of the skies,      Do you hear the night wind and the sighs      Of harps playing unto Love to unclose      The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone      Awake to hear the sweet harps play      To Love before him on his way,      And the night wind answering in antiphon      Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love,      Whose way in heaven is aglow      At that hour when soft lights come and go,      Soft sweet music in the air above      And in the earth below.

IV       When the shy star goes forth in heaven      All maidenly, disconsolate,      Hear you amid the drowsy even      One who is singing by your gate.      His song is softer than the dew      And he is come to visit you.

O bend no more in revery      When he at eventide is calling.      Nor muse: Who may this singer be      Whose song about my heart is falling?      Know you by this, the lover's chant,      'Tis I that am your visitant.

V       Lean out of the window,      Goldenhair,      I hear you singing      A merry air.

My book was closed,      I read no more,      Watching the fire dance      On the floor.

I have left my book,      I have left my room,      For I heard you singing      Through the gloom.

Singing and singing      A merry air,      Lean out of the window,      Goldenhair.

VI       I would in that sweet bosom be      (O sweet it is and fair it is!)      Where no rude wind might visit me.      Because of sad austerities      I 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 sweeter      So I were ever in that heart.

VII       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 woo      The young leaves as they pass,      My love goes slowly, bending to      Her shadow on the grass;

And where the sky's a pale blue cup      Over the laughing land,      My love goes lightly, holding up      Her dress with dainty hand.

VIII       Who goes amid the green wood      With springtide all adorning her?      Who goes amid the merry green wood      To make it merrier?

Who passes in the sunlight      By ways that know the light footfall?      Who passes in the sweet sunlight      With mien so virginal?

The ways of all the woodland      Gleam with a soft and golden fire—      For whom does all the sunny woodland      Carry so brave attire?

O, it is for my true love      The woods their rich apparel wear—      O, it is for my own true love,      That is so young and fair.

IX       Winds of May, that dance on the sea,      Dancing a ring-around in glee      From furrow to furrow, while overhead      The foam flies up to be garlanded,      In silvery arches spanning the air,      Saw you my true love anywhere?      Welladay! Welladay!      For the winds of May!      Love is unhappy when love is away!

X       Bright cap and streamers,      He sings in the hollow:      Come follow, come follow,                 All you that love.      Leave dreams to the dreamers      That will not after,      That song and laughter                 Do nothing move.

With ribbons streaming      He sings the bolder;      In troop at his shoulder                 The wild bees hum.      And the time of dreaming      Dreams is over—      As lover to lover,                 Sweetheart, I come.

XI       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.

XII       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.

XIII       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.

XIV       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!

XV       From dewy dreams, my soul, arise,      From love's deep slumber and from death,      For lo! the trees 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.

XVI       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.

XVII       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.

XVIII       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.

IX       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.

XX       In the dark pine-wood      I would we lay,      In deep cool shadow      At noon of day.

How sweet to lie there,      Sweet to kiss,      Where the great pine-forest      Enaisled is!

Thy kiss descending      Sweeter were      With a soft tumult      Of thy hair.

O unto the pine-wood      At noon of day      Come with me now,      Sweet love, away.

XXI       He who hath glory lost, nor hath      Found any soul to fellow his,      Among his foes in scorn and wrath      Holding to ancient nobleness,      That high unconsortable one—      His love is his companion.

XXII       Of that so sweet imprisonment      My soul, dearest, is fain—      Soft arms that woo me to relent      And woo me to detain.      Ah, could they ever hold me there      Gladly were I a prisoner!

Dearest, through interwoven arms      By love made tremulous,      That night allures me where alarms      Nowise may trouble us;      But sleep to dreamier sleep be wed      Where soul with soul lies prisoned.

XXIII       This heart that flutters near my heart      My hope and all my riches is,      Unhappy when we draw apart      And happy between kiss and kiss:      My hope and all my riches—yes!—      And all my happiness.

For there, as in some mossy nest      The wrens will divers treasures keep,      I laid those treasures I possessed      Ere that mine eyes had learned to weep.      Shall we not be as wise as they      Though love live but a day?

XXIV       Silently she's combing,      Combing her long hair      Silently and graciously,      With many a pretty air.

The sun is in the willow leaves      And on the dapplled grass,      And still she's combing her long hair      Before the looking-glass.

I pray you, cease to comb out,      Comb out your long hair,      For I have heard of witchery      Under a pretty air,

That makes as one thing to the lover      Staying and going hence,      All fair, with many a pretty air      And many a negligence.

XXV       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      Ripple all thy flying hair.

Lightly, lightly—ever so:      Clouds that wrap the vales below      At the hour of evenstar      Lowliest attendants are;      Love and laughter song-confessed      When the heart is heaviest.

XXVI       Thou leanest to the shell of night,      Dear lady, a divining ear.      In that soft choiring of delight      What sound hath made thy heart to fear?      Seemed it of rivers rushing forth      From the grey deserts of the north?

That mood of thine      Is his, if thou but scan it well,      Who a mad tale bequeaths to us      At ghosting hour conjurable—      And all for some strange name he read                 In Purchas or in Holinshed.

XXVII       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      The malice of thy tenderness.

For elegant and antique phrase,      Dearest, my lips wax all too wise;      Nor have I known a love whose praise      Our piping poets solemnize,      Neither a love where may not be      Ever so little falsity.

XXVIII       Gentle lady, do not sing      Sad songs about the end of love;      Lay aside sadness and sing      How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep      Of lovers that are dead, and how      In the grave all love shall sleep:      Love is aweary now.

XXIX       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 eyes,      Through the soft sigh of kiss to kiss,      Desolate winds assail with cries      The shadowy garden where love is.

And soon shall love dissolved be      When over us the wild winds blow—      But you, dear love, too dear to me,      Alas! why will you use me so?

XXX       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 past      That had his sweet hours many a one;      Welcome to us now at the last      The ways that we shall go upon.

XXXI       O, it was out by Donnycarney      When the bat flew from tree to tree      My love and I did walk together;      And sweet were the words she said to me.

Along with us the summer wind      Went murmuring—O, happily!—      But softer than the breath of summer      Was the kiss she gave to me.

XXXII       Rain has fallen all the day.      O come among the laden trees:      The leaves lie thick upon the way      Of memories.

Staying a little by the way      Of memories shall we depart.      Come, my beloved, where I may      Speak to your heart.

XXXIII       Now, O now, in this brown land      Where Love did so sweet music make      We two shall wander, hand in hand,      Forbearing for old friendship' sake,      Nor grieve because our love was gay      Which now is ended in this way.

A rogue in red and yellow dress      Is knocking, knocking at the tree;      And all around our loneliness      The wind is whistling merrily.      The leaves—they do not sigh at all      When the year takes them in the fall.

Now, O now, we hear no more      The vilanelle and roundelay!      Yet will we kiss, sweetheart, before      We take sad leave at close of day.      Grieve not, sweetheart, for anything—      The year, the year is gathering.

XXXIV       Sleep now, O sleep now,      O you unquiet heart!      A voice crying "Sleep now"      Is heard in my heart.

The voice of the winter      Is heard at the door.      O sleep, for the winter      Is crying "Sleep no more."

My kiss will give peace now      And quiet to your heart—      Sleep on in peace now,      O you unquiet heart!

XXXV       All day I hear the noise of waters      Making moan,      Sad as the sea-bird is when, going      Forth alone,      He hears the winds cry to the water's      Monotone.      The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing      Where I go.      I hear the noise of many waters      Far below.      All day, all night, I hear them flowing      To and fro.

XXXVI       I hear an army charging upon the land,      And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:      Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,      Disdaining the reins, with fluttering ships, the charioteers.      They cry unto the night their battle-name:      I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.      They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,      Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.      They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:      They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.      My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?      My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?

www.freeclassicebooks.com