ALONE

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The moon's grey golden meshes make
All night a veil.
The shore-lamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper in the night
A name - her name -
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.

© James Joyce
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© E-magazine LiterNet, 26.03.2001, № 3 (16)