XV

From dewy dreams, my soul, arise
From love's deep slumber and from death
For lo! the treees are full of sighs
Whose leaves the morn admonisheth

Eastward the gradual dawn prevails
Where softly-burning fires appear
Making to tremble all those veils
Of grey and golden gossamer

While sweetly, gently, secretly
The flowery bells of morn are stirred
And the wise choirs of faery
Begin (innumerous!) to be heard



Credits
Writer(s): James Augustine Aloysius Joyce, Haim Rachmani
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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