Whispers of Immortality
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
Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town
Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones In fact, he’s remarkably fat. He doesn’t haunt pubs he has eight or nine clubs, For he’s the St. James’s Street Cat! He’s the Cat we all
The Waste Land
The Waste Land By T. S. Eliot “Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis Vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo.” I. THE BURIAL
Mungojerrie And Rumpelteazer
Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer were a very notorious couple of cats. As knockabout clown, quick-change comedians, tight-rope walkers and acrobats They had extensive reputation. They made their home in Victoria Grove That was merely their
The Naming Of Cats
The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn’t just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must
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
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
The Rum Tum Tugger
The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat: If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse. If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat, If you put
The Song Of The Jellicles
Jellicle Cats come out tonight, Jellicle Cats come one come all: The Jellicle Moon is shining bright Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball. Jellicle Cats are black and white, Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding
I Midwinter spring is its own season Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown, Suspended in time, between pole and tropic. When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire, The brief sun flames the
Portrait of a Lady
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
Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service
Look, look, master, here comes two religious caterpillars. The Jew of Malta. POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE The sapient sutlers of the Lord Drift across the window-panes. In the beginning was the Word. In the beginning was the
La Figlia che Piange
O quam te memorem virgo… STAND on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair- Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise-
The Boston Evening Transcript
THE READERS of the Boston Evening Transcript Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn. When evening quickens faintly in the street, Wakening the appetites of life in some And to others
Journey Of The Magi
‘A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.’ And