You don’t remember, but I remember,
Once is enough.
SONG BY WAUCHOPE AND HORSFALL
SWARTS AS TAMBO. SNOW AS BONES
Under the bamboo 40
Bamboo bamboo
Under the bamboo tree
Two live as one
One live as two
Two live as three 45
Under the bam
Under the boo
Under the bamboo tree.
Where the breadfruit fall
And the penguin call 50
And the sound is the sound of the sea
Under the bam
Under the boo
Under the bamboo tree.
[Commentary I 812–13 · Textual History II 452]
Where the Gauguin maids
In the banyan shades
Wear palmleaf drapery 60
Under the bam
Under the boo
Under the bamboo tree.
Tell me in what part of the wood
Do you want to flirt with me?
Under the breadfruit, banyan, palmleaf
Or under the bamboo tree?
Any old tree will do for me 65
Any old wood is just as good
Any old isle is just my style
Any fresh egg
Any fresh egg
And the sound of the coral sea. 70
DORIS: I don’t like eggs; I never liked eggs;
And I don’t like life on your crocodile isle.
SONG BY KLIPSTEIN AND KRUMPACKER.
SNOW AND SWARTS AS BEFORE
My little island girl
My little island girl
I’m going to stay with you 75
And we won’t worry what to do
We won’t have to catch any trains
And we won’t go home when it rains
We’ll gather hibiscus flowers
For it won’t be minutes but hours 80
For it won’t be hours but years
[Commentary I 813 · Textual History II 452]
DORIS: That’s not life, that’s no life 90
Why I’d just as soon be dead.
SWEENEY: That’s what life is. Just is
DORIS: What is?
What’s that life is?
SWEENEY: Life is death.
I knew a man once did a girl in—
DORIS: Oh Mr. Sweeney, please don’t talk, 95
I cut the cards before you came
And I drew the coffin
SWARTS: You drew the coffin?
DORIS: I drew the COFFIN very last card.
I don’t care for such conversation
A woman runs a terrible risk. 100
SNOW: Let Mr. Sweeney continue his story.
I assure you, Sir, we are very interested.
SWEENEY: I knew a man once did a girl in
Any man might do a girl in
Any man has to, needs to, wants to 105
Once in a lifetime, do a girl in.
Well he kept her there in a bath
With a gallon of lysol in a bath
SWARTS: These fellows always get pinched in the end.
SNOW: Excuse me, they don’t all get pinched in the end. 110
What about them bones on Epsom Heath?
I seen that in the papers
[Commentary I 813–14 · Textual History II 452]
You seen it in the papers
They don’t all get pinched in the end.
DORIS: A woman runs a terrible risk. 115
SNOW: Let Mr. Sweeney continue his story.
SWEENEY: This one didn’t get pinched in the end
But that’s another story too.
This went on for a couple of months
Nobody came 120
And nobody went
But he took in the milk and he paid the rent.
SWARTS: What did he do?
All that time, what did he do?
SWEENEY: What did he do! what did he do? 125
That don’t apply.
Talk to live men about what they do.
He used to come and see me sometimes
I’d give him a drink and cheer him up.
DORIS: Cheer him up?
DUSTY: Cheer him up? 130
SWEENEY: Well here again that don’t apply
But I’ve gotta use words when I talk to you.
But here’s what I was going to say.
He didn’t know if he was alive
and the girl was dead
He didn’t know if the girl was alive
and he was dead 135
He didn’t know if they both were alive
or both were dead
If he was alive then the milkman wasn’t
and the rent-collector wasn’t
And if they were alive then he was dead.
There wasn’t any joint
There wasn’t any joint 140
For when you’re alone
[Commentary I 814–15 · Textual History II 452]
When you’re alone like he was alone
You’re either or neither
I tell you again it don’t apply
Death or life or life or death 145
Death is life and life is death
I gotta use words when I talk to you
But if you understand or if you don’t
That’s nothing to me and nothing to you
We all gotta do what we gotta do 150
We’re gona sit here and drink this booze
We’re gona sit here and have a tune
We’re gona stay and we’re gona go
And somebody’s gotta pay the rent
DORIS: I know who
SWEENEY: But that’s nothing to me and nothing to you. 155
FULL CHORUS: WAUCHOPE, HORSFALL,
KLIPSTEIN, KRUMPACKER
When you’re alone in the middle of the night and
you wake in a sweat and a hell of a fright
When you’re alone in the middle of the bed and
you wake like someone hit you on the head
You’ve had a cream of a nightmare dream and
you’ve got the hoo-ha’s coming to you.
Hoo hoo hoo
You dreamt you waked up at seven o’clock and it’s
foggy and it’s damp and it’s dawn and it’s dark 160
And you wait for a knock and the turning of a lock
for you know the hangman’s waiting for you.
And perhaps you’re alive
And perhaps you’re dead
Hoo ha ha
Hoo ha ha 165
Hoo
[Commentary I 815–16 · Textual History II 452]
Hoo
Hoo
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK 170
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
[Commentary I 815–16 · Textual History II 452–53]
Coriolan
I. Triumphal March
Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels
Over the paving.
And the flags. And the trumpets. And so many eagles.
How many? Count them. And such a press of people.
5
We hardly knew ourselves that day, or knew the City.
This is the way to the temple, and we so many crowding the way.
So many waiting, how many waiting? what did it matter, on such a day?
Are they coming? No, not yet. You can see some eagles. And hear the trumpets.
Here they come. Is he coming?
10
The natural wakeful life of our Ego is a perceiving.
We can wait with our stools and our sausages.
What comes first? Can you see? Tell us. It is
5,800,000 rifles and carbines,
102,000 machine guns,
15
28,000 trench mortars,
53,000 field and heavy guns,
I cannot tell how many project
iles, mines and fuses,
13,000 aeroplanes,
24,000 aeroplane engines,
20
50,000 ammunition waggons,
now 55,000 army waggons,
11,000 field kitchens,
1,150 field bakeries.
What a time that took. Will it be he now? No,
25
Those are the golf club Captains, these the Scouts,
And now the société gymnastique de Poissy
And now come the Mayor and the Liverymen. Look
There he is now, look:
There is no interrogation in his eyes
30
Or in the hands, quiet over the horse’s neck,
And the eyes watchful, waiting, perceiving, indifferent.
O hidden under the dove’s wing, hidden in the turtle’s breast,
Under the palmtree at noon, under the running water
At the still point of the turning world. O hidden.
[Commentary I 816–26 · Textual History II 453]
35
Now they go up to the temple. Then the sacrifice.
Now come the virgins bearing urns, urns containing
Dust
Dust
Dust of dust, and now
40
Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels
Over the paving.
That is all we could see. But how many eagles! and how many trumpets!
(And Easter Day, we didn’t get to the country,
So we took young Cyril to church. And they rang a bell
45
And he said right out loud, crumpets.)
Don’t throw away that sausage,
It’ll come in handy. He’s artful. Please, will you
Give us a light?
Light
50
Light
Et les soldats faisaient la haie? ILS LA FAISAIENT.
[Commentary I 826–29 · Textual History II 453–54]
II. Difficulties of a Statesman
CRY what shall I cry?
All flesh is grass: comprehending
The Companions of the Bath, the Knights of the British Empire, the Cavaliers,
O Cavaliers! of the Legion of Honour,
5
The Order of the Black Eagle (1st and 2nd class),
And the Order of the Rising Sun.
Cry cry what shall I cry?
The first thing to do is to form the committees:
The consultative councils, the standing committees, select committees and sub-committees.
10
One secretary will do for several committees.
What shall I cry?
Arthur Edward Cyril Parker is appointed telephone operator
At a salary of one pound ten a week rising by annual increments of five shillings
To two pounds ten a week; with a bonus of thirty shillings at Christmas
15
And one week’s leave a year.
A committee has been appointed to nominate a commission of engineers
To consider the Water Supply.
A commission is appointed
For Public Works, chiefly the question of rebuilding the fortifications.
20
A commission is appointed
To confer with a Volscian commission
About perpetual peace: the fletchers and javelin-makers and smiths
Have appointed a joint committee to protest against the reduction of orders.
[Commentary I 829–32 · Textual History II 454–55]
Meanwhile the guards shake dice on the marches
25
And the frogs (O Mantuan) croak in the marshes.
Fireflies flare against the faint sheet lightning
What shall I cry?
Mother mother
Here is the row of family portraits, dingy busts, all looking remarkably Roman,
30
Remarkably like each other, lit up successively by the flare
Of a sweaty torchbearer, yawning.
O hidden under the … Hidden under the … Where the dove’s
foot rested and locked for a moment,
A still moment, repose of noon, set under the upper branches of noon’s widest tree
Under the breast feather stirred by the small wind after noon
35
There the cyclamen spreads its wings, there the clematis droops over the lintel
O mother (not among these busts, all correctly inscribed)
I a tired head among these heads
Necks strong to bear them
Noses strong to break the wind
40
Mother
May we not be some time, almost now, together,
If the mactations, immolations, oblations, impetrations,
Are now observed
May we not be
45
O hidden
Hidden in the stillness of noon, in the silent croaking night.
Come with the sweep of the little bat’s wing, with the small flare of the firefly or lightning bug,
‘Rising and falling, crowned with dust’, the small creatures,
The small creatures chirp thinly through the dust, through the night.
50
O mother
What shall I cry?
[Commentary I 832–34 · Textual History II 455]
We demand a committee, a representative committee, a committee of investigation
RESIGN RESIGN RESIGN
[Commentary I 834 · Textual History II 455]
Minor Poems
Eyes that last I saw in tears
Eyes that last I saw in tears
Through division
Here in death’s dream kingdom
The golden vision reappears
5
I see the eyes but not the tears
This is my affliction
This is my affliction
Eyes I shall not see again
Eyes of decision
10
Eyes I shall not see unless
At the door of death’s other kingdom
Where, as in this,
The eyes outlast a little while
A little while outlast the tears
15
And hold us in derision.
[Commentary I 835–36 · Textual History II 457]
The wind sprang up at four o’clock
The wind sprang up at four o’clock
The wind sprang up and broke the bells
Swinging between life and death
Here, in death’s dream kingdom
5
The waking echo of confusing strife
Is it a dream or something else
When the surface of the blackened river
Is a face that sweats with tears?
I saw across the blackened river
10
The camp fire shake with alien spears.
Here, across death’s other river
The Tartar horsemen shake their spears.
[Commentary I 836–37 · Textual History II 457–58]
Five-Finger Exercises
I. Lines to a Persian Cat
The songsters of the air repair
To the green fields of Russell Square.
Beneath the trees there is no ease
For the dull brain, the sharp desires
And the quick eyes of Woolly Bear. 5
There is no relief but in grief.
O when will the creaking heart cease?
When will the broken chair give ease?
Why will the summer day delay?
10
When will Time flow away?
II. Lines to a Yorkshire Terrier
In a brown field stood a tree
And the tree was crookt and dry.
In a black sky, from a green cloud
Natural forces shriek’d aloud,
5
Screamed, rattled, muttered endlessly.
Little dog was safe and warm
Under a cretonne eiderdown,
Yet the field was cracked and brown
And the tree was cramped and dry.
10
Pollicle dogs and cats all must
Jellicle cats and dogs all must
Like undertakers, come to dust.
Here a little dog I pause
Heaving up my prior paws,
15
Pause, and sleep endlessly.
[Commentary I 837–41 · Textual History II 458–59]
III. Lines to a Duck in the Park
The long light shakes across the lake,
The forces of the morning quake,
The dawn is slant across the lawn,
Here is no eft or mortal snake
5
But only sluggish duck and drake.
I have seen the morning shine,
I have had the Bread and Wine,
Let the feathered mortals take
That which is their mortal due,
10
Pinching bread and finger too,
Easier had than squirming worm;
For I know, and so should you
That soon the enquiring worm shall try
Our well-preserved complacency.
IV. Lines to Ralph Hodgson Esqre.
How delightful to meet Mr. Hodgson!
(Everyone wants to know him)
With his musical sound
And his Baskerville Hound
5
Which, just at a word from his master
Will follow you faster and faster
And tear you limb from limb.
How delightful to meet Mr. Hodgson!
Who is worshipped by all waitresses
10
(They regard him as something apart)
While on his palate fine he presses
The juice of the gooseberry tart.
How delightful to meet Mr. Hodgson!
(Everyone wants to know him.)
15
He has 999 canaries
And round his head finches and fairies
In jubilant rapture skim.
How delightful to meet Mr. Hodgson!
(Everyone wants to meet him.)
The Poems of T. S. Eliot Volume I Page 11
