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Chamber Music, poem(s) by James Joyce

15 - From dewy dreams, my soul, arise, - From love's deep slumber and from death,

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

Read next: 16 - O cool is the valley now - And there, love, will we go

Read previous: 14 - My dove, my beautiful one, - Arise, arise!

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