by James Joyce (1882 - 1941)

Thou leanest to the shell of night
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE
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, O timorous
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.

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Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title unknown, copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2008-12-02
Line count: 12
Word count: 77