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[The twilight turns from amethyst]

by James Joyce, 1907

The twilight turns from amethyst
  To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale green glow
  The trees of the avenue.

The old piano plays an air,
  Sedate and slow and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
  Her head inclines this way.

Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands
  That wander as they list -- -
The twilight turns to darker blue
  With lights of amethyst.

Published in Chamber Music
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