Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service

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1. Sunday Morning 1 Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. She dreams a little, and she feels the dark Encroachment of that old catastrophe, As a calm darkens among water-lights. The pungent […]...
2. Written On Sunday Morning Go thou and seek the House of Prayer! I to the Woodlands wend, and there In lovely Nature see the GOD OF LOVE. The swelling organ’s peal Wakes not my soul to zeal, Like the wild music of the wind-swept grove. The gorgeous altar and the mystic vest Rouse not such ardor in my breast, […]...
3. Morning at the Window THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens, And along the trampled edges of the street I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids Sprouting despondently at area gates. The brown waves of fog toss up to me Twisted faces from the bottom of the street, And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts […]...
4. A Legend of Service It pleased the Lord of Angels (praise His name!) To hear, one day, report from those who came With pitying sorrow, or exultant joy, To tell of earthly tasks in His employ: For some were sorry when they saw how slow The stream of heavenly love on earth must flow; And some were glad because […]...
5. Sunday up the River MY love o’er the water bends dreaming; It glideth and glideth away: She sees there her own beauty, gleaming Through shadow and ripple and spray. O tell her, thou murmuring river, As past her your light wavelets roll, How steadfast that image for ever Shines pure in pure depths of my soul....
6. Master of Music Glory of architect, glory of painter, and sculptor, and bard, Living forever in temple and picture and statue and song, Look how the world with the lights that they lit is illumined and starred, Brief was the flame of their life, but the lamps of their art burn long! Where is the Master of Music, […]...
7. Eddi's Service Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid In his chapel at Manhood End, Ordered a midnight service For such as cared to attend. But the Saxons were keeping Christmas, And the night was stormy as well. Nobody came to service, Though Eddi rang the bell. “‘Wicked weather for walking,” Said Eddi of Manhood End. “But I must […]...
8. Three Ha'Pence a Foot I’ll tell you an old-fashioned story That Grandfather used to relate, Of a joiner and building contractor; ‘Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite. In a shop on the banks of the Irwell, Old Sam used to follow ‘is trade, In a place you’ll have ‘eard of, called Bury; You know, where black puddings is made. […]...
9. In The Beginning In the beginning was the three-pointed star, One smile of light across the empty face, One bough of bone across the rooting air, The substance forked that marrowed the first sun, And, burning ciphers on the round of space, Heaven and hell mixed as they spun. In the beginning was the pale signature, Three-syllabled and […]...
10. A Description of the Morning Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach Appearing, show’d the ruddy morn’s approach. Now Betty from her master’s bed had flown, And softly stole to discompose her own. The slip-shod ‘prentice from his master’s door Had par’d the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor. Now Moll had whirl’d her mop with dext’rous airs, Prepar’d to […]...
11. The Jubilee Sov'reign On Jubilee Day the Ramsbottoms Invited relations to tea, Including young Albert’s grandmother – An awkward old. . party, was she. She’d seen Queen Victoria’s accession And ‘er wedding to Albert (the Good) But she got quite upset when young Albert Asked ‘er ‘ow she’d got on in the Flood. She cast quite a damper […]...
12. To Morning O holy virgin! clad in purest white, Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and issue forth; Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey’d dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning, salute the sun Rous’d like a huntsman to the chase, and with […]...
13. An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges Look down on ravines. The vision can travel From gable to gable, Italianate mansion And turretted stable, A sylvan expansion So varied and jolly Where laurel and holly Commingle their greens. Serene on a Sunday The […]...
14. A Florida Sunday From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas Oft come repenting tempests here to die; Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies, They shrive to priestly pines with many a sigh, Breathe salutary balms through lank-lock’d hair Of sick men’s heads, and soon this world outworn Sink into saintly heavens of stirless air, Clean from confessional. One […]...
15. TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence Into this house pour down thy influence, That through each room a golden pipe may run Of living water by thy benizon; Fulfil the larders, and with strength’ning bread Be ever-more these bins replenished. Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground, That lucky fairies here may dance […]...
16. Morning Prayer Let me to-day do something that shall take A little sadness from the world’s vast store, And may I be so favoured as to make Of joy’s too scanty sum a little more. Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend; Nor would I pass, unseeing, […]...
17. Thoughts of Li Po from the World's End Here at the world’s end the cold winds are beginning to blow. What messages Have you for me, my master? When will the poor wandering goose arrive? The Rivers and lakes are swollen with autumn’s waters. Art detests a too successful Life; and the hungry goblins await you with welcoming jaws. You had better have […]...
18. To my Lady Berkeley, Afflicted upon her Son, My Lord BERKELEY's Early Engaging in the Sea-Service SO the renowned Ithacensian Queen In Tears for her Telemachus was seen, When leaving Home, he did attempt the Ire Of rageing Seas, to seek his absent Sire: Such bitter Sighs her tender Breast did rend; But had she known a God did him attend, And would with Glory bring him safe again, Bright Thoughts […]...
19. Sunday Afternoons I sit at home At my desk alone As I used to do On many sunday afternoons When you came back to me, Your arms ached for me, And your arms would close me in Though they smelled of other women. I think of you On Sunday afternoons. Your sweet head would bow, Like a […]...
20. Term At the last minute a word is waiting Not heard that way before and not to be Repeated or ever be remembered One that always had been a household word Used in speaking of the ordinary Everyday recurrences of living Not newly chosen or long considered Or a matter for comment afterward Who would ever […]...
21. Today Is Sunday Today is Sunday. For the first time they took me out into the sun today. And for the first time in my life I was aghast That the sky is so far away And so blue And so vast I stood there without a motion. Then I sat on the ground with respectful devotion Leaning […]...
22. The Heart and Service The heart and service to you proffer’d With right good will full honestly, Refuse it not, since it is offer’d, But take it to you gentlely. And though it be a small present, Yet good, consider graciously The thought, the mind, and the intent Of him that loves you faithfully. It were a thing of […]...
23. Week-Night Service The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never resting, Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping In splashes of sound, endlessly, never stopping. The silver moon That somebody has spun so high To settle the question, yes or no, has caught In […]...
24. Service of all the Dead Between the avenues of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks, and surplices Of linen, go the chaunting choristers, The priests in gold and black, the villagers. And all along the path to the cemetery The round, dark heads of men crowd silently And black-scarved faces of women-folk, wistfully Watch at the banner of death, and […]...
25. One Morning Looking for distinctive stones, I found the dead otter Rotting by the tideline, and carried all day the scent of this savage Valediction. That headlong high sound the oystercatcher makes Came echoing through the rocky cove Where a cormorant was feeding and submarining in the bay And a heron rose off a boulder where he’d […]...
26. Sunday The mint bed is in Bloom: lavender haze Day. The grass is More than green and Throws up sharp and Cutting lights to Slice through the Plane tree leaves. And On the cloudless blue I scribble your name....
27. Sunday O day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world’s bud, Th’endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blood; The couch of time; care’s balm and bay: The week were dark, but for thy light: Thy torch doth show the way. The other days and thou Make up […]...
28. No Sunday Chicken I could have sold him up because His rent was long past due; And Grimes, my lawyer, said it was The proper thing to do: But how could I be so inhuman? And me a gentle-woman. Yet I am poor as chapel mouse, Pinching to make ends meet, And have to let my little house […]...
29. Severer Service of myself Severer Service of myself I hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind I worried Nature with my Wheels When Hers had ceased to run When she had put away Her Work My own had just begun. I strove to weary Brain and Bone To harass to fatigue The glittering […]...
30. The Service without Hope The Service without Hope Is tenderest, I think Because ’tis unsustained By stint Rewarded Work Has impetus of Gain And impetus of Goal There is no Diligence like that That knows not an Until...
31. Cheery Beggar Beyond Mбgdalen and by the Bridge, on a place called there the Plain, In Summer, in a burst of summertime Following falls and falls of rain, When the air was sweet-and-sour of the flown fineflower of Those goldnails and their gaylinks that hang along a lime; . . . . . . . . The […]...
32. Wild Dreams Of A New Beginning There’s a breathless hush on the freeway tonight Beyond the ledges of concrete Restaurants fall into dreams With candlelight couples Lost Alexandria still burns In a billion lightbulbs Lives cross lives Idling at stoplights Beyond the cloverleaf turnoffs ‘Souls eat souls in the general emptiness’ A piano concerto comes out a kitchen window A yogi […]...
33. Easter Morning I have a life that did not become, That turned aside and stopped, Astonished: I hold it in me like a pregnancy or As on my lap a child Not to grow old but dwell on It is to his grave I most Frequently return and return To ask what is wrong, what was Wrong, […]...
34. Robert William Service – Laughter I Laugh at Life: its antics make for me a giddy games, Where only foolish fellows take themselves with solemn aim. I laugh at pomp and vanity, at riches, rank and pride; At social inanity, at swager, swank and side. At poets, pastry-cooks and kings, at folk sublime and small, Who fuss about a thousand […]...
35. Hymn on the Morning of Christ's Nativity IT was the Winter wilde, While the Heav’n-born-childe, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in aw to him Had doff’t her gawdy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. Only with speeches fair She woo’s the […]...
36. The Lifeguard In a stable of boats I lie still, From all sleeping children hidden. The leap of a fish from its shadow Makes the whole lake instantly tremble. With my foot on the water, I feel The moon outside Take on the utmost of its power. I rise and go our through the boats. I set […]...
37. Easter Morning a stone at dawn Cold water in the basin These walls’ rough plaster Imageless After the hammering Of so much insistence On the need for naming After the travesties That passed as faces, Grace: the unction Of sheer nonexistence Upwelling in this Hyacinthine freshet Of the unnamed The faceless...
38. The Morning after Woe The Morning after Woe ‘Tis frequently the Way Surpasses all that rose before For utter Jubilee As Nature did not care And piled her Blossoms on And further to parade a Joy Her Victim stared upon The Birds declaim their Tunes Pronouncing every word Like Hammers Did they know they fell Like Litanies of Lead […]...
39. Now List to my Morning's Romanza 1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza-I tell the signs of the Answerer; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother; How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother? Tell him […]...
40. Sonnet XXIV Mine eye hath play’d the painter and hath stell’d Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein ’tis held, And perspective it is the painter’s art. For through the painter must you see his skill, To find where your true image pictured lies; Which in my bosom’s shop is […]...