Chamber Music, by James Joyce

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VII

My love is in a light attire Among the apple-trees, Where the gay winds do most desire To run in companies.

There, where the gay winds stay to woo
The young leaves as they pass,
My love goes slowly, bending to
Her shadow on the grass;

And where the sky’s a pale blue cup
Over the laughing land,
My love goes lightly, holding up
Her dress with dainty hand.


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