The waste land

THE
WASTE LAND
By
T.
S.
ELIOT
Winner of The
Dial's
1922
Award.
This prize of two thousand
dollars
is
given
annually to
a young American writer
recognition
to letters.
in
of his service
THE WASTE LAND
By
T. S. Eliot
(Winner of the Dial's 1922 Award)
Burton Rascoe in the "New York
THE WASTE
Tribune," characterizes
as, "A thing of bitterness and
beauty, which is a crystallization or a
synthesis of all the poems Mr. Eliot
has hitherto written." He goes still
LAND
THE WASTE
further,
when he
LAND,
"Is, perhaps, the finest
says,
poem
of this generation; at all events it is
the most significant in that it gives
voice to the universal despair or resignation arising from the spiritual and
economic consequences of the war, the
cross purposes of modern civilization,
the cul-de-sac into which both science
and philosophy seem to have got
themselves and the break-down of all
great directive purposes which give
zest and joy to the business of living.
It is an erudite despair: Mr. Eliot
stems his poem from a recent anthropological study of primitive beliefs, as
embodied in the Grail legend and
other flaming quests which quickened
men in other times; he quotes, or
misquotes, lines from the "Satyricon
of Petronius," "Tristan und Isolde,"
the sacred books of the Hindus, Dante,
Baudelaire, Verlaine, nursery rhymes,
the Old Testament and modern jazz
songs. His method is highly elliptical,
based on the curious formula of Tristan Corbiere, wherein reverential and
blasphemous ideas are juxtaposed in
amazing antitheses, and there are mingled all the shining verbal toys, impressions and catch lines of a poet who
has read voraciously and who possesses an insatiable curiosity about life.
It is analysis and realism, psychology
and criticism, anguish, bitterness and
disillusion, with passages of great
lyrical
beauty."
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in
2012 with funding from
Duke
University Libraries
http://archive.org/details/wasteland01elio
THE WASTE LAND
THE WASTE LAND
BY
T.
"
S.
ELIOT
NAM Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis
vidi in ampulla pendere, et
cum
2£/SiAXa tL 0eXcts; respondebat
illi
pueri dicerent:
ilia: &iro6aveiv 0e\o)."
NEW YORK
BONI AND LIVERIGHT
1922
Copyright 1922 by
BONI & LIVERIGHT
thousand copies printed
Of
the one
of
The Waste Land
number.^.
this
volume
.(..O^
is
Sf
THE WASTE LAND
Mis
I.
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
APRIL
is
the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and
desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth
A
snow, feeding
in forgetful
little life
Summer
with dried tubers.
surprised
us,
coming over
the
Starnbergersee
With a shower of
rain;
we stopped
in the
colonnade,
And went on
in
sunlight,
garten,
into the Hof10
H 9 3
THE WASTE LAND
And drank
coffee,
and talked
for
an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen,
echt deutsch.
And when we were
children, staying at the
archduke's,
My
And
cousin's,
was
I
he took
me
He
frightened.
Marie, hold on tight.
out on a
said,
much
read,
Marie,
And down we
In the mountains, there you
I
sled,
went.
feel free.
of the night, and go south
in the winter.
What
are
the
roots
that
clutch,
what
branches grow
Out
of
this
stony
rubbish?
man,
Son
of
20
Cio.j
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
You cannot
say, or guess, for
you know
only
A
heap of broken images, where the sun
beats,
And
the dead tree gives no shelter, the
cricket
And
no
relief,
the dry stone no sound of water.
There
is
(Come
shadow under
in
Only
this red rock,
under the shadow of
this
red
rock),
And
I
will
show you something
different
from either
Your shadow
at
morning striding behind
you
Or your shadow
you;
at evening rising to
meet
THE WASTE LAND
I
show you
will
fear
a
in
handful of
dust.
30
Frisch weht der
Der Heimai
Mein
Wo
"You gave me
"They
called
Wind
zu,
Iriscb Kind,
weilest
du ?
hyacinths
me
first
a year ago;
the hyacinth girl."
— Yet when we came back,
late,
from the
Hyacinth garden,
Your arms
full,
and your
hair
wet,
I
could not
Speak, and
my
eyes failed,
Living nor dead, and
Looking
into
silence.
the
I
I
knew
heart
of
was neither
nothing,
light,
40
the
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
OcT und
leer
Madame
Sosostris,
Had
Is
das Meer.
famous clairvoyante,
a bad cold, nevertheless
known
to
be
the
wisest
woman
in
Europe,
With
a wicked pack of cards.
Here, said
she,
Is
your
card,
the
drowned
Phoenician
Sailor,
(Those
are
Look
Here
is
is
that
were
his
eyes.
!)
Belladonna, the
The lady
Here
pearls
of situations.
the
man
Lady of
the Rocks,
so
with three staves, and
here the Wheel,
C-I3 3
THE WASTE LAND
And
here
is
the one-eyed merchant, and
this card,
Which
is
blank,
is
something he carries on
his back,
Which
I
am
forbidden to
see.
I
do not
find
The Hanged Man.
I
see
Fear death by water.
crowds of people, walking round
in
a ring.
Thank
you.
If
you
see dear Mrs. Equi-
tone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be
so careful these days.
Unreal City,
60
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
Ci4
3
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
A
crowd flowed over London Bridge, so
many,
I
had not thought death had undone so
many.
Sighs, short
And
each
and infrequent, were exhaled,
man
Flowed up the
fixed his eyes before his feet.
hill
and down King William
Street,
To where
Saint
Mary Woolnoth
kept the
hours
With a dead sound on the
final stroke
of
nine.
There
I
saw one
I
knew, and stopped him,
crying: "Stetson!
"You who were with me
Mylae!
in the ships at
7o
C 15 3
THE WASTE LAND
"That corpse you planted
last
year in
your garden,
"Has
it
begun to sprout?
Will
it
bloom
this year?
"Or
has the sudden frost disturbed
its
bed?
"Oh
keep the
to
far hence, that's friend
men,
"Or with
"You!
Dog
his nails he'll dig
hypocrite
blable,
— mon
lecteur!
frere!"
Ci6
3
it
up again!
— mon
sem-
II.
THE
A GAME OF CHESS
Chair she sat
in,
like
bur-
a
nished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the
up
Held
by
standards
glass
wrought
with
fruited vines
From which
a
golden Cupidon
peeped
OUt
80
(Another hid
Doubled
his eyes
the
behind his wing)
flames
of
sevenbranched
candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The
glitter of her jewels rose to
From
meet
it,
satin cases poured in rich profusion;
li7l
THE WASTE LAND
In vials of ivory and coloured glass
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic
perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid
— troubled,
confused
And drowned
by the
the sense in odours;
stirred
air
That freshened from the window, these
ascended
90
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Flung their smoke into the laquearia,
Stirring the pattern
Huge sea-wood
on the coffered
ceiling.
fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the
coloured stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
C i8 3
GAME OF CHESS
A
Above the antique mantel was displayed
As though
a
window gave upon the sylvan
scene
The change
of Philomel,
by the barbarous
king
So rudely forced;
yet there the nightin-
gale
IOO
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And
still
she
cried,
and
still
the world
pursues,
"Jug Jug"
And
to dirty ears.
other withered stumps of time
Were
told
upon the walls; staring forms
Leaned out, leaning, hushing the room
enclosed.
Footsteps shuffled on the
C19J
stair.
THE WASTE LAND
Under the
firelight,
under the brush, her
hair
Spread out
Glowed
into words,
agely
"My
in fiery points
then would be savno
Still.
nerves are bad tonight.
Yes, bad.
Stay with me.
" Speak to me.
Why
do you never speak.
Speak.
"What
are you thinking of?
ing?
What
think-
What?
"I never know what you are thinking.
Think."
I
think
Where
we
are in rats' alley
the dead
men
lost their bones.
C2on
GAME OF CHESS
A
"What
is
that noise
?"
The wind under
"What
is
that noise
now?
the
What
door.
is
the
wind doing?''
Nothing again nothing.
120
"Do
"You know
nothing?
Do you
see nothing?
Do you remember
"Nothing?"
I
remember
Those are pearls that were
"Are you
in
alive, or
not?
his eyes.
Is there
nothing
your head?"
But
OOOO
It's
that Shakespeherian
Rag
—
so elegant
So intelligent
130
C213
THE WASTE LAND
"What
I
"I
shall
I
What
now?
do
shall
do?"
am, and walk the
shall rush out as I
street
"With my
hair down, so.
What
shall
we
do tomorrow?
"What
shall
we
ever do?"
w
The hot
And
rains, a closed car at four.
if it
And we
shall play a
Pressing
ter at ten.
lidless
game of
eyes
chess,
and waiting for a
knock upon the door.
When
Lil's
said
husband
—
C22 3
got
demobbed,
I
GAME OF CHESS
A
I
my
didn't mince
words,
said to her
I
myself,
140
Hurry up please
Now
its
time
coming back, make your-
Albert's
self a bit smart.
He'll
want to know what you done with
money he gave you
that
To
get yourself
some
He
teeth.
did, I
was
there.
You have them
all
out,
Lil,
and get a
nice set,
He said,
I
swear,
And no more
I
can't bear to look at you.
can't
I, I said,
and think of
poor Albert,
He's been in the
army
wants a good time,
1:23:1
four years,
he
THE WASTE LAND
And
if
you dont give
others will,
Oh
o' that,
I'll
iso
know who
and give
me
you dont
I
to thank, she said,
a straight look.
Hurry up please
If
Something
said.
I
Then
there's
said.
I
there, she said.
is
him,
it
time
its
you can get on with
like it
said,
Others can pick and choose
But
if
it,
Albert makes
off,
it
if
you
can't.
wont be
for
lack of telling.
You ought
to be ashamed, I said, to look
so antique.
(And her only
I can't
help
it,
thirty-one.)
she said, pulling a long face,
C243
A
It's
them
GAMEOF CHESS
pills I
took, to bring
it off,
she
said.
(She's had five already, and nearly died
of young George.)
The chemist
said
it
160
would be
alright,
but
I've never been the same.
You
are a proper fool,
Well,
it
if
I
said.
Albert wont leave you alone, there
is,
I said,
What you
get
married for
if
you dont
want children?
Hurry up please
its
time
Well, that Sunday Albert was home, they
had a hot gammon,
And they asked me
the beauty of
it
in to dinner, to get
hot
C2 5
3
—
the waste land
Hurry up please
its
time
Hurry up please
its
time
Goonight
Bill.
May.
Ta
ta.
Good
Goonight Lou.
Goonight.
Goonight.
night,
ladies,
Goonight
170
Goonight.
ladies,
good
night,
sweet
good night, good night.
C263
III.
THE
THE FIRE SERMON
river's
tent
is
broken:
the last
fingers of leaf
Clutch and sink into the wet bank.
The
wind
Crosses the brown
nymphs
land,
The
unheard.
are departed.
Sweet Thames, run
softly, till I
end
my
song.
The
river bears
no empty bottles, sand-
wich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer
The nymphs
are departed.
nights.
THE WASTE LAND
And
their friends, the loitering heirs of
directors
180
;
Departed, have
By
left
the waters of
wept
.
.
city-
no addresses.
Leman
I
sat
down and
.
Sweet Thames, run softly
till
I
end
my
song,
Sweet Thames, run
softly, for I
speak not
loud or long.
my
But at
The
back
rattle
of
in a cold blast I
the
bones,
and
hear
chuckle
spread from ear to ear.
A
rat crept softly through the vegetation
Dragging
While
I
its
was
slimy belly on the bank
fishing in the dull canal
C28H
THE FIRE SERMON
On
a winter evening
round behind
the
gashouse
Musing
upon
190
the
king
my
brother's
wreck
And on
the king
my
father's death before
him.
White bodies naked on the low damp
ground
And bones
cast in a little low dry garret,
Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year.
my
But at
The sound
back from time to time
of horns
I
hear
and motors, which
shall bring
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter
O
the
moon shone
And on
in the spring.
bright on Mrs. Porter
her daughter
C29:
200
THE WASTE LAND
They wash
Et
ces
their feet in soda
water
voix d'enfants, chantant dans la
coupole !
Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
So rudely
forc'd.
Tereu
Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter noon
Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant
Unshaven, with a pocket
C.i.f.
of currants
London: documents at
Asked me
To
full
in
210
sight,
demotic French
luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel
C3o3
THE FIRE SERMON
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.
At the
violet hour,
when
Turn upward from the
human
the eyes and back
desk,
when the
engine waits
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,
I
Tiresias,
though blind, throbbing be-
tween two
Old
man
lives,
with wrinkled female breasts,
can see
At the
violet hour, the evening
hour that
strives
220
Homeward, and
from
The
brings
the
sailor
home
sea,
typist
home
at
teatime,
breakfast, lights
C3O
clears
her
THE WASTE LAND
Her
and lays out food
stove,
Out of the window
in tins.
perilously spread
Her drying combinations touched by the
sun's last rays,
On
the divan are piled (at night her bed)
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.
I Tiresias,
old
man
with wrinkled dugs
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest
I
too awaited the expected guest.
He, the young
A
man
230
carbuncular, arrives,
small house agent's clerk, with one bold
stare,
One
As
of the low on
whom
assurance
sits
a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.
The time
is
now
The meal
is
ended, she
propitious, as he guesses,
C3O
is
bored and
tired,
THE FIRE SERMON
Endeavours to engage her
Which
still
in caresses
are unreproved,
if
undesired.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence;
240
His vanity requires no response,
And makes
(And
a welcome of indifference.
I Tiresias
Enacted on
I
this
who have
sat
have foresuffered
all
same divan or bed;
by Thebes below the wall
And walked among
the lowest of the dead.)
Bestows one
final patronising kiss,
And
his
gropes
unlit
.
.
way, finding the
stairs
.
She turns and looks a moment
in the glass,
Hardly aware of her departed lover;
C 33 3
250
THE WASTE LAND
Her
brain allows one half-formed thought
to pass:
"Well now
that's done:
and I'm glad
it's
over."
When
lovely
woman
stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
And
puts a record on the gramophone.
"This
music
crept
by
me upon
the
waters"
And
along the Strand, up Queen Victoria
Street.
O
City
Beside
city, I
a
can sometimes hear
public
bar
in
Street,
Lower Thames
260
C343
THE FIRE SERMON
The
pleasant whining of a mandoline
And
a clatter and a chatter from within
Where fishmen lounge
at noon:
where the
walls
Of Magnus Martyr hold
Inexplicable
and
The
splendour
of
Ionian
white
gold.
river sweats
and tar
Oil
The
barges drift
With the turning
Red
tide
sails
270
Wide
To
leeward, swing on the heavy spar.
The barges wash
C 35 3
THE WASTE LAND
Drifting logs
Down Greenwich
reach
Past the Isle of Dogs.
Weialala
leia
Wallala leialala
Elizabeth and Leicester
Beating oars
The
A
stern
was formed
gilded shell
Red and
The
gold
brisk swell
Rippled both shores
Southwest wind
Carried
The
down stream
peal of bells
White towers
280
THE FIRE SERMON
Weialala
Wallala
"Trams and dusty
leia
leialala
trees.
Highbury bore me.
Richmond and Kew
By Richmond
Undid me.
290
I
raised
my
knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe."
"My
feet are at
Under
He
I
my
wept.
feet.
He
my
Moorgate, and
heart
After the event
promised 'a new
made no comment.
What
start.'
should
I
resent?"
"On Margate
I
Sands.
can connect
Nothing with nothing.
l37l
300
THE WASTE LAND
The broken
My
fingernails of dirty hands.
people humble people
who
expect
Nothing/'
la la
To Carthage
Burning
then
burning
I
came
burning
Lord Thou pluckest
O
Lord Thou pluckest
burning
C38 3
me
burning
out
310
IV.
DEATH BY WATER
|HLEBAS
p
the Phoenician, a fortnight
dead,
Forgot the cry of
gulls,
and the deep sea
swell
And
the profit and loss.
A
current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers.
and
He
As he
rose
fell
passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or
O
Jew
you who turn the wheel and look to
windward,
320
Consider Phlebas,
and
tall as
who was once handsome
you.
C393
WHAT THE THUNDER
V.
AFTER
SAID
the torchlight red on sweaty
faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and
the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of
thunder
of
spring
over
distant
mountains
He who was
We who
living
is
now dead
were living are now dying
With a
little
Here
no water but only rock
is
patience
Rock and no water and
330
the sandy road
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
The
winding
road
among
above
the
mountains
Which
mountains
are
of
rock
without
water
If there
were water we should stop and
drink
Amongst
the
rock
one
cannot
stop
or
think
Sweat
If
is
there
dry and feet are in the sand
were only water amongst the
rock
Dead mount
in
mouth of
carious
teeth
that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor
There
is
lie
nor
sit 340
not even silence in the moun-
tains
C4i3
THE WASTE LAND
But dry
There
sterile
thunder without rain
even
not
is
solitude
in
the
mountains
But red
From
sullen faces sneer
and snarl
doors of mudcracked houses
If there
And no
were water
rock
If there were rock
And
also
water
And water
A
spring
A
pool
among
If there
Not
3S o
the rock
were the sound of water only
the cicada
And dry
grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
Where
the hermit-thrush
sings
in
the
pine trees
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
But there
Who
is
is
no water
the third
who walks always
beside
you?
When
count, there are only you and I
I
together
But when
There
is
side
I
360
look ahead up the white road
always another one walking be-
you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I
do not know whether a
— But
who
is
man
or a
woman
that on the other side of
you?
C43 3
THE WASTE LAND
What
is
Murmur
Who
that sound high in the air
of maternal lamentation
are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless
plains, stumbling in cracked
earth
Ringed by the
What
is
flat
horizon only
370
the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts
in the violet
air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
A woman
drew her long black hair out
tight
IT
44 3
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
And
fiddled whisper
And
bats with baby faces in the violet light
music on those strings
Whistled, and beat their wings
And
crawled
head
380
down
downward
a
blackened wall
And
upside
Tolling
down
in air
reminiscent
were towers
bells,
that kept
the
hours
And
voices singing out of
and exhausted
empty
cisterns
wells.
In this decayed hole
among
the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass
is
singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There
is
the
empty
chapel, only the wind's
home.
C45 3
THE WASTE LAND
It has
no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no
one.
Only a cock stood on the
Co
co
co co
rico
39 o
rooftree
rico
In a flash of lightning.
Then
a
damp
gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp
Waited
leaves
for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The
jungle crouched,
Then spoke
humped
in silence.
the thunder
Da
400
Datta: what have
My
we
given?
friend, blood shaking
The awful daring of
my
heart
a moment's surrender
U6 3
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
Which an age of prudence can never
retract
By
this,
Which
Or
in
is
and
this only,
we have
existed
not to be found in our obituaries
memories draped by the beneficent
spider
Or under
seals
broken by the lean
solicitor
In our empty rooms
Da
410
Dayadhvam:
Turn
in
I
the
have heard the key
door once
and turn once
only
We
think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the
key,
each
confirms
prison
Only
at nightfall, aetherial
Z47l
rumours
a
THE WASTE LAND
Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus
Da
Damyata: The boat responded
Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and
oar
The
sea
was calm, your heart would have
responded
Gaily,
To
when
420
invited, beating obedient
controlling hands
I sat
upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind
Shall I at least set
London Bridge
falling
is
my
falling
down
C48
3
me
lands in order?
down
falling
down
WHAT THE THUNDER SAID
Poi
s' as cose
nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam
ceu
chelidon
—O
swallow
swallow
Le Prince
d? Aquitaine
These fragments
I
a la tour abolie
have shored against
ruins
Why
then
43 o
lie fit
you.
Hieronymo's
againe.
Datta.
my
Dayadhvam.
Shantih
Damyata.
shantih
C493
shantih
mad
NOTES
NOTES
NOT
only the
title,
but the plan and a
good deal of the incidental symbolism
of the
poem were
suggested by Miss Jessie L.
From
Weston's book on the Grail legend:
Romance (Macmillan).
Ritual
to
deeply
am
I
better than
book
it
my
notes can do;
poem much
and
I
recom-
(apart from the great interest of the
itself)
of the
indebted, Miss Weston's book will
the difficulties of the
elucidate
mend
Indeed, so
to
any who think such elucidation
poem worth
the trouble.
work of anthropology
I
am
To
another
indebted in general,
one which has influenced our generation profoundly;
I
mean The Golden Bough;
I
have
used especially the two volumes Atthis Adonis
Osiris.
works
Anyone who
will
is
acquainted with these
immediately recognise
in the
poem
certain references to vegetation ceremonies.
C53 3
THE WASTE LAND
THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
I.
Line 20.
Cf. Ezekiel II,
i.
23.
Cf. Ecclesiastes XII, v.
31.
V. Tristan und Isolde,
42.
Id. Ill, verse 24.
46.
I
am
verses 5-8.
I,
not familiar with the exact consti-
tution of the Tarot pack of cards, from which
I
have obviously departed to
convenience.
The Hanged Man,
the traditional pack,
ways:
because he
with the Hanged
I associate
is
God
my
fits
later;
member
of
my mind
of Frazer, and because
figure in the
Emmaus
and
Sailor
also
my own
purpose in two
him with the hooded
Phoenician
appear
a
associated in
passage of the disciples to
The
suit
the
in Part V.
Merchant
the "crowds of people,"
and Death by Water
is
executed in Part IV.
The Man with Three Staves (an authentic
member of the Tarot pack) I associate, quite
arbitrarily,
60.
with the Fisher King himself.
Cf. Baudelaire:
" Fourmillante
cite,
cite pleine
C54 3
de reves,
NOTES
"Ou
le
en
spectre
plein
jour
raccroche
le
passant."
63.
Cf. Inferno III, 55-57:
"si lunga tratta
di gente, ch'io
non avrei mai creduto
che morte tanta n'avesse disfatta."
64.
Cf. Inferno IV, 25-27:
"Quivi, secondo che per ascoltare,
"non avea
pianto,
ma' che
di sospiri,
"che l'aura eterna facevan tremare."
68.
A
phenomenon which
I
have
often
noticed.
74.
Cf. the Dirge in Webster's White Devil.
76.
V. Baudelaire, Preface to Fleurs du Mai.
II.
A GAME OF CHESS
Antony and Cleopatra,
77.
Cf.
92.
Laquearia.
V. Aeneid,
I,
II,
ii,
1.
190.
726:
dependent lychni laquearibus aureis
incensi, et
noctem flammis funalia vincunt.
C55D
THE WASTE LAND
Sylvan scene.
98.
V. Milton, Paradise Lost,
IV, 140.
V.
99.
Ovid,
Metamorphoses,
VI,
Philomela.
Cf. Part III
1.
204.
115.
Cf. Part III
1.
195.
118.
Cf. Webster: "Is the
100.
wind
in that
door
still?"
126.
Cf. Part I
138.
Cf. the
Women
37, 48.
1.
game of
chess in Middleton's
beware Women.
III.
THE FIRE SERMON
176.
V. Spenser, Protbalamion.
192.
Cf.
The Tempest,
196.
Cf.
Day, Parliament
"When
"A
I,
ii.
of Bees:
of the sudden, listening, you shall hear,
noise of horns and hunting, which shall
bring
"Actaeon to Diana
"Where
197.
all shall
in the spring,
see her
Cf. Marvell,
naked skin
."
.
.
To His Coy Mistress.
n
563
NOTES
do not know the origin of the ballad
I
199.
from which these
ported to
lines are
me from
taken;
V. Verlaine, Parsifal.
210.
The
and the
the
to
was
re-
Sydney, Australia.
202.
"carriage
it
currants were quoted at a price
and
insurance
to
free
London";
were to be handed
Bill of
Lading
buyer
upon payment of the
etc.
sight
draft.
218.
Tiresias,
although
a
and not indeed a "character,"
important
all
the
personage
rest.
the
in
mere spectator
is
yet the most
poem,
Just as the one-eyed merchant,
of currants, melts into the Phoenician
seller
Sailor,
and the
latter
not wholly distinct
is
from Ferdinand Prince of Naples, so
women
meet
are one
all
woman, and the two
in Tiresias.
What
passage from Ovid
is
the
sexes
Tiresias sees, in fact,
the substance of the
is
uniting
poem.
The whole
of great anthropological
interest:
.
.
.
Cum
Iunone iocos et
profecto est
C57
3
maior
vestra
THE WASTE LAND
Quam,
quae
maribus',
contingit
dixisse,
'voluptas.'
Ilia
placuit quae
negat;
sit
sententia docti
venus huic erat utraque
Quaerere Tiresiae:
not a.
Nam
duo magnorum
viridi coeuntia silva
Corpora aerpentum baculi violaverat
Deque
viro factus, mirabile, femina
Egerat autumnos; octavo rursus
Vidit et 'est vestrae
si
ictu
septem
eosdem
tanta potentia plagae,'
Dixit 'ut auctoris sortem in contraria mutet,
Nunc quoque
vos feriam!' percussis anguibus
isdem
Forma
prior rediit genetivaque venit imago.
Arbiter hie igitur sumptus de
lite
iocosa
Dicta Iovis firmat; gravius Saturnia iusto
Nee pro materia
Iudicis aeterna
fertur doluisse suique
damnavit lumina nocte,
At pater omnipotens (neque enim
cuiquam
Facta dei
fecisse deo)
Scire futura dedit
221.
This
may
pro lumine adempto
poenamque
not
licet inrita
levavit honore.
appear
£S*1
as
exact
as
NOTES
Sappho's
lines,
but
had
I
mind the "long-
in
who
shore" or "dory" fisherman,
returns at
nightfall.
253.
V. Goldsmith, the song in The Vicar
of Wakefield.
257.
V. The Tempest, as above.
The interior of St. Magnus Martyr is
my mind one of the finest among Wren's
264.
to
The
See
interiors.
Proposed
Nineteen City Churches: (P.
266.
The
Song
of
daughters begins here.
S.
the
279.
V.
letter of
"In the
I
V. Gbtterddm-
Froude,
Elizabeth Vol.
I,
ch.
iv,
De Quadra to Philip of Spain:
afternoon we were in a barge, watch-
alone with Lord
far that
(The queen) was
Robert and myself on the
when they began
went so
292 to 306
line
the Rhinedaughters.
i:
ing the games on the river.
poop,
Thames-
(three)
From
of
& Son Ltd.).
King
inclusive they speak in turn.
merung. III,
Demolition
to talk nonsense,
Lord Robert at
and
last said, as
was on the spot there was no reason why they
should not be married
if
C 59 3
the queen pleased."
THE WASTE LAND
293
.
Cf. Purgatorio, V. 133:
"Ricorditi di me, che son
"Siena mi
307.
V. St.
fe',
Augustine's
Carthage then
Fire
to
Pia;
Maremma."
Confessions:
"to
came, where a cauldron of
I
unholy loves sang
308.
disfecemi
la
all
The complete
about mine ears."
text
Sermon (which corresponds
the Sermon on the
Buddha's
of the
in
importance
Mount) from which
these words are taken, will be found translated
Henry Clarke Warren's Buddhism
in Translation (Harvard Oriental Series). Mr.
Warren was one of the great pioneers of
in the late
Buddhist studies
312.
The
From
St.
in the Occident.
Augustine's Confessions again.
collocation of these
two representatives
of eastern and western asceticism, as the cul-
mination of this part of the poem,
accident.
C6o3
is
not an
NOTES
WHAT THE THUNDER
V.
In the
first
employed:
proach
V
part of Part
the journey to
Chapel
the
to
SAID
three themes are
Emmaus,
Perilous
the ap-
(see
Miss
Weston's book) and the present decay of eastern
Europe.
This
357.
the
Turdus aonalaschkae
is
hermit-thrush
which
I
Chapman
Quebec County.
have
says
pallasii,
heard
{Handbook
of Birds of Eastern North America) "it
at
home
retreats.
in secluded
...
for variety or
is
most
woodland and thickety
notes
Its
in
are
not
remarkable
volume, but in purity and sweet-
ness of tone and exquisite modulation they are
"water-dripping song"
is
following lines were stimulated
by
unequaled."
Its
justly celebrated.
The
360.
the account of one of the Antarctic expeditions
(I
forget which, but I think one of Shackle-
ton's)
:
plorers,
it
at
was
the
related that the party of ex-
extremity of their strength,
C6i3
THE WASTE LAND
had the constant delusion that there was one
more member than could actually be counted.
366-76.
"Schon
Cf.
ist
Hermann
Hesse, Blick ins Chaos:
halb Europa, schon
ist
zumindest
dem Wege zum
der halbe Osten Europas auf
Chaos, fahrt betrunken im heiligem
Wahn am
Abgrund entlang und singt dazu, singt betrunken und hymnisch wie Dmitri Karamasoff sang.
Burger
sie
Ueber
beleidigt,
Lieder lacht
diese
der
der Heilige und Seher hort
mit Tranen."
"Datta, dayadhvam, damyata" (Give,
401.
The
sympathise, control).
ing of the
ranyaka
found
Veda>
Thunder
is
— Upanishad,
in
Deussen's
fable of the
found
in the
5, 1.
A
Sechzig
mean-
Brihada-
translation
Upanishads des
p. 489.
Cf. Webster,
407.
The White
"...
Ere the
worm
Devil, V. vi:
they'll
remarry
pierce your winding-sheet, ere
the spider
Make
is
a thin curtain for your epitaphs."
1:623
NOTES
XXXIII,
Cf. Inferno,
411.
"ed
io sentii
46:
chiavar l'uscio di sotto
all'orribile torre."
Also F. H. Bradley, Appearance and Reality,
p. 346.
"My
external sensations are no less private to
my thoughts
my experience
myself than are
In either case
own
circle, a circle closed
with
all
its
or
my
falls
feelings.
elements alike, every sphere
opaque to the others which surround
In
brief,
my
within
on the outside; and,
regarded
an
as
existence
it.
.
is
.
.
which
appears in a soul, the whole world for each
is
peculiar and private to that soul."
424.
From
V. Weston:
Ritual
to
Romance;
chapter on the Fisher King.
427.
V. Purgatorio,
"'Ara vos
XXVI,
148.
prec, per aquella valor
'que vos guida
al
som de
'sovegna vos a temps de
Poi s'ascose nel foco che
428.
V. Pervigilium Veneris.
in Parts II
and
III.
C6 3
n
l'escalina,
ma
gli
dolor.'
affina."
Cf. Philomela
THE WASTE LAND
429.
V.
Gerard
de
Nerval,
Sonnet
El
Desdichado.
431.
V. Kyd's Spanish Tragedy.
433.
Shantih.
Repeated as here, a formal
ending to an Upanishad.
"The Peace which
passeth understanding"
a feeble translation
is
of the content of this word.
C6 4
3
T. S. Eliot was born in
1888 in St. Louis, Missouri;
he is a graduate of Harvard
and studied at the Sorbonne and at Oxford, has
been a lecturer, editor and
banker. For the first few
years in which his poems
appeared he was known
to only a small
number
readers, but his first
of
book
poems and his long
poem, The Waste Land,
of
which has just been published,
have
established
him, in the opinion of critics, as without question the
most significant of the
younger American writers.
Abroad, and especially in
France, he
is
held to be, in
addition, the leader of the
and most
strictest
gent
school
criticism.
ume
of
intelli-
literary
Only one
of his critical
vol-
work
has been published, under
the title of The Sacred
Wood.
BON1
AND L1VERIGHT
Publishers
105 W. 40th
St.,
New York
ifi