Exploring The Waste Land - Show supplementary text

Ode
T.S. Eliot


"To you particularly, and to all the Volscians
Great hurt and mischief."

Tired.
Subterrene laugher synchronous
With silence from the sacred wood
And bubbling of the uninspired
Mephitic river.
                      Misunderstood
The accents of the now retired
Profession of the calamus.

Tortured.
When the bridegroom smoothed his hair
There was blood upon the bed.
Morning was already late.
Children singing in the orchard
(Io Hymen, Hymenaee)
Succuba eviscerate.

Tortuous.
By arrangement with Perseus
The fooled resentment of the dragon
Sailing before the wind at dawn
Golden apocalypse. Indignant
At the cheap extinction of his taking-off.
Now he lies there
Tip to tip washed beneath Charles' Wagon.



Exploring The Waste Land - [Home] [E-mail] File date: Sunday, September 29, 2002