Public-domain source text

XXII

by James Joyce

From Standard Ebooks · standardebooks/james-joyce_poetry

Of That So Sweet Imprisonment
Of that so sweet imprisonment My soul, dearest, is fain⁠— Soft arms that woo me to relent And woo me to detain. Ah, could they ever hold me there Gladly were I a prisoner!
Dearest, through interwoven arms By love made tremulous, That night allures me where alarms Nowise may trouble us; But sleep to dreamier sleep be wed Where soul with soul lies prisoned.

Source record

This is a source transcription from Standard Ebooks, published in Past Poetry’s public-domain archive without line-by-line editorial notes. Public-domain source edition. Availability can vary by territory.

View the source edition →