Whispers of Immortality by T. S. Eliot Webster was much possessed by death And saw the skull beneath the skin; And breastless creatures under ground Leaned backward with a lipless grin. Daffodil bulbs instead of balls Stared from the sockets of the eyes! He knew that thought clings round dead limbs Tightening its lusts and […]
Category: Eliot, T. S.
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Preludes by T. S. Eliot
Preludes by T. S. Eliot I The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at […]
Conversation Galante by T. S. Eliot I observe: “Our sentimental friend the moon! Or possibly (fantastic, I confess) It may be Prester John’s balloon Or an old battered lantern hung aloft To light poor travellers to their distress.” She then: “How you digress!” And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys That exquisite nocturne, […]
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Portrait of a Lady by T. S. Eliot
Portrait of a Lady by T. S. Eliot Thou hast committed? Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew Of Malta I Among the smoke and fog of a December afternoon You have the scene arrange itself?as it will seem to do? With “I have saved this […]
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The Hippopotamus by T. S. Eliot
The Hippopotamus ?????? Similiter et omnes revereantur Diaconos, ut ?????? mandatum Jesu Christi; et Episcopum, ut Jesum ?????? Christum, existentem filium Patris; Presbyteros ?????? autem, ut concilium Dei et conjunctionem ?????? Apostolorum. Sine his Ecclesia non vocatur; de ?????? quibus suadeo vos sic habeo. ?????? S. IGNATII AD TRALLIANOS. ?????? And when this epistle is […]
Rhapsody on a Windy Night by T. S. Eliot Twelve o’clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Disolve the floors of memory And all its clear relations, Its divisions and precisions, Every street lamp that I pass Beats like a fatalistic drum, And through the spaces of […]
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Aunt Helen by T. S. Eliot
Aunt Helen Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt, And lived in a small house near a fashionable square Cared for by servants to the number of four. Now when she died there was silence in heaven And silence at her end of the street. The shutters were drawn and the undertaker wiped his feet? […]
Simply, one of the greatest poets of all time. T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)