22 Feb Letters To Nora (JAMES JOYCE)
Late July 1904
60 Shelbourne Road, Dublin
My dear Nora I found myself sighing deeply tonight as I walked along and I thought of an old song written three hundred years ago by the English King Henry VIII—a brutal and lustful king. The song
is so sweet and fresh and seems to have come from such a simple grieving heart that I send it to you, hoping it may please you. It is strange from what muddy pools the angels call forth a spirit of
beauty. The words express very delicately and musically the vague and tired loneliness which I feel. It is a song written for the lute.
JIM
Song
(for music)
Ah, the sighs that come from my heart
They grieve me passing sore!
Sith I must from my love depart
Farewell, my joy, for evermore.
I was wont her to behold
And clasp in armes twain.
And now with sighes manifold
Farewell my joy and welcome pain!
Ah methinks that could I yet
(As would to God I might!)
There would no joy compare with it
Unto my heart to make it light.
Henry VIII
Letters To Nora
James Joyce
Image: http://www.frockflicks.com/wtf-the-tudors/