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1882–1941

IX

James Joyce

Winds of May, that dance on the sea, Dancing a ring-around in glee From furrow to furrow, while overhead The foam flies up to be garlanded,

In silvery arches spanning the air, Saw you my true love anywhere? Welladay! Welladay! For the winds of May!

Love is unhappy when love is away!

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IX · James Joyce · Poetry Cove