Four Settings of James Joyce

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.

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!1

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.

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.