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Chamber Music, poem(s) by James Joyce

26 - Thou leanest to the shell of night, - Dear lady, a divining ear.

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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.

Read next: 27 - Though I thy Mithridates were, - Framed to defy the poison-dart,

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

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