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Chamber Music, poem(s) by James Joyce

24 - Silently she's combing, - Combing her long hair

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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.

Read next: 25 - Lightly come or lightly go: - Though thy heart presage thee woe,

Read previous: 23 - This heart that flutters near my heart - My hope and all my riches is,

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