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Friday, January 3, 2003

From Dewy Dreams

Rating: 2.5
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.
James Joyce
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COMMENTS
Kayode Are 24 December 2018
Sonorous and soothing
1 0 Reply
Resh Kav 22 June 2017
beautiful & nice to read this
0 1 Reply

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