From Ulysses by James Joyce and produced with Suno AI
James Joyce and Suno AI
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This wind is sweeter.
Houses of decay, mine, his and all. You told the Clongowes
gentry you had an uncle a judge and an uncle a general in the
army. Come out of them, Stephen. Beauty is not there. Nor
in the stagnant bay of Marsh’s library where you read the
fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. For whom? The hundredheaded rabble of the cathedral close. A hater of his kind
ran from them to the wood of madness,
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