When the Shy Star Goes Forth in Heaven
James Joyce, Peter Schickele
When the shy star goes forth in heaven
All maidenly, disconsolate
Hear you amid the drowsy even
One who is singing by your gate
His song is softer than the dew
And he is come to visit you
O bend no more in revery
When he at eventide is calling
Nor muse: Who may this singer be
Whose song about my heart is falling
Know you by this, the lover's chant
'Tis I that am your visitant