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1882–1941

VI

James Joyce

I would in that sweet bosom be ( O sweet it is and fair it is! ) Where no rude wind might visit me. Because of sad austerities

I would in that sweet bosom be. I would be ever in that heart ( O soft I knock and soft entreat her! ) Where only peace might be my part.

Austerities were all the sweeter So I were ever in that heart.

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VI · James Joyce · Poetry Cove