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III. THE FIRE SERMON
The river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf	-1
Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind	0
Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.	1
Sweet Thames, run softly, till I end my song.	2
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,	3
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends	4
Or other testimony of summer nights. The nymphs are departed.	5
And their friends, the loitering heirs of city directors;	6
Departed, have left no addresses.	7
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept . . .	8
Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song,	9
Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not loud or long.	10
But at my back in a cold blast I hear	11
The rattle of the bones, and chuckle spread from ear to ear.	12
A rat crept softly through the vegetation	13
Dragging its slimy belly on the bank	14
While I was fishing in the dull canal	15
On a winter evening round behind the gashouse	16
Musing upon the king my brother's wreck	17
And on the king my father's death before him.	18
White bodies naked on the low damp ground	19
And bones cast in a little low dry garret,	20
Rattled by the rat's foot only, year to year.	21
But at my back from time to time I hear	22
The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring	23
Sweeney to Mrs. Porter in the spring.	24
O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter	25
And on her daughter	26
They wash their feet in soda water	27
Et O ces voix d'enfants, chantant dans la coupole!	28
Twit twit twit	29
Jug jug jug jug jug jug	30
So rudely forc'd.	31
Tereu	32
Unreal City	33
Under the brown fog of a winter noon	34
Mr. Eugenides, the Smyrna merchant	35
Unshaven, with a pocket full of currants	36
C.i.f. London: documents at sight,	37
Asked me in demotic French	38
To luncheon at the Cannon Street Hotel	39
Followed by a weekend at the Metropole.	40
At the violet hour, when the eyes and back	41
Turn upward from the desk, when the human engine waits	42
Like a taxi throbbing waiting,	43
I Tiresias, though blind, throbbing between two lives,	44
Old man with wrinkled female breasts, can see	45
At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives	46
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,	47
The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights	48
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.	49
Out of the window perilously spread	50
Her drying combinations touched by the sun's last rays,	51
On the divan are piled (at night her bed)	52
Stockings, slippers, camisoles, and stays.	53
I Tiresias, old man with wrinkled dugs	54
Perceived the scene, and foretold the rest -	55
I too awaited the expected guest.	56
He, the young man carbuncular, arrives,	57
A small house agent's clerk, with one bold stare,	58
One of the low on whom assurance sits	59
As a silk hat on a Bradford millionaire.	60
The time is now propitious, as he guesses,	61
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,	62
Endeavours to engage her in caresses	63
Which still are unreproved, if undesired.	64
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;	65
Exploring hands encounter no defence;	66
His vanity requires no response,	67
And makes a welcome of indifference.	68
(And I Tiresias have foresuffered all	69
Enacted on this same divan or bed;	70
I who have sat by Thebes below the wall	71
And walked among the lowest of the dead.)	72
Bestows one final patronising kiss,	73
And gropes his way, finding the stairs unlit . . .	74
She turns and looks a moment in the glass,	75
Hardly aware of her departed lover;	76
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:	77
"Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over."	78
When lovely woman stoops to folly and	79
Paces about her room again, alone,	80
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,	81
And puts a record on the gramophone.	82
"This music crept by me upon the waters"	83
And along the Strand, up Queen Victoria Street.	84
O City city, I can sometimes hear	85
Beside a public bar in Lower Thames Street,	86
The pleasant whining of a mandoline	87
And a clatter and a chatter from within	88
Where fishmen lounge at noon: where the walls	89
Of Magnus Martyr hold	90
Inexplicable splendour of Ionian white and gold.	91
The river sweats	92
Oil and tar	93
The barges drift	94
With the turning tide	95
Red sails	96
Wide	97
To leeward, swing on the heavy spar.	98
The barges wash	99
Drifting logs	100
Down Greenwich reach	101
Past the Isle of Dogs.	102
Weialala leia	103
Wallala leialala	104
Elizabeth and Leicester	105
Beating oars	106
The stern was formed	107
A gilded shell	108
Red and gold	109
The brisk swell	110
Rippled both shores	111
Southwest wind	112
Carried down stream	113
The peal of bells	114
White towers	115
Weialala leia	116
Wallala leialala	117
"Trams and dusty trees.	118
Highbury bore me. Richmond and Kew	119
Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees	120
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe."	121
"My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart	122
Under my feet. After the event	123
He wept. He promised 'a new start'.	124
I made no comment. What should I resent?"	125
"On Margate Sands.	126
I can connect	127
Nothing with nothing.	128
The broken fingernails of dirty hands.	129
My people humble people who expect	130
Nothing."	131
la la	132
To Carthage then I came	133
Burning burning burning burning	134
O Lord Thou pluckest me out	135
O Lord Thou pluckest	136
burning	137

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