Poem by James Joyce

Chamber Music. 27. Though I Thy Mithridates Were

Though I thy Mithridates were,
    Framed to defy the poison-dart,
Yet must thou fold me unaware
    To know the rapture of thy heart,
And I but render and confess
The malice of thy tenderness.

For elegant and antique phrase,
    Dearest, my lips wax all too wise;
Nor have I known a love whose praise
    Our piping poets solemnize,
Neither a love where may not be
Ever so little falsity.

1. Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba
2. Chamber Music. 33. Now, O Now, in This Brown Land
3. Chamber Music. 20. In the Dark Pine-Wood
4. Chamber Music. 14. My Dove, My Beautiful One
5. Chamber Music. 31. O, It Was Out by Donnycarney

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