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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  James Joyce

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

She Weeps over Rahoon

James Joyce

RAIN on Rahoon falls softly, softly falling

Where my dark lover lies.

Sad is his voice that calls me, sadly calling

At grey moonrise.

Love, hear thou

How desolate the heart is, ever calling,

Ever unanswered—and the dark rain falling

Then as now.

Dark too our hearts, O love, shall lie, and cold

As his sad heart has lain

Under the moon-grey nettles, the black mould

And muttering rain.