Poem by James Joyce

She Weeps over Rahoon

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 soft, how sad his voice 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 moongrey nettles, the black mould
And muttering rain.

1. Chamber Music. 33. Now, O Now, in This Brown Land
2. A Memory of the Players in a Mirror at Midnight
3. Chamber Music. 4. When the Shy Star Goes Forth in Heaven
4. Chamber Music. 6. I Would in That Sweet Bosom Be
5. Lament for the Yeomen

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