‘What counsel has the hooded moon’ by James Joyce (1904)
What counsel has the hooded moon Put in thy heart, my shyly sweet, Of Love in ancient plenilune, Glory and stars beneath his feet — A sage that is but kith and kin With the comedian Capuchin? Believe me rather that am wise In disregard of the divine, A glory kindles in those eyes, Trembles to starlight. Mine, O mine!…