James Joyce

(2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941 / Dublin / Ireland)

Of That So Sweet Imprisonment - Poem by James Joyce

Of that so sweet imprisonment
My soul, dearest, is fain -- -
Soft arms that woo me to relent
And woo me to detain.
Ah, could they ever hold me there
Gladly were I a prisoner!

Dearest, through interwoven arms
By love made tremulous,
That night allures me where alarms
Nowise may trouble us;
But lseep to dreamier sleep be wed
Where soul with soul lies prisoned.


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Read poems about / on: sleep, night, love, wedding



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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