Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair,
I hear you singing
A merry air.
My book was closed,
I read no more,
Watching the fire dance
On the floor.
I have left my book,
I have left my room,
For I heard you singing
Through the gloom.
Singing and singing
A merry air,
Lean out of the window,
Goldenhair.
More verses by James Joyce
- Gentle Lady, Do Not Sing
- Ecce Puer
- At That Hour
- A Flower Given To My Daughter
- Because Your Voice Was At My Side