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Oct 12, 2022 · The Waste Land’s afterlife was a self-fulfilling prophecy strategically crafted by Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot, two writers who sought to meaningfully connect with what they thought of as the...
Water and rock are antithetical motifs in “The Waste Land.”. Water is associated with life, growth, and rebirth, while rock summons opposite images suggestive of a barren, sterile wasteland. The contrast between water and rock permeates the poem and supports Eliot’s depictions of modern life as a spiritual wasteland.
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Text of The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot with annotations, references, map, and Eliot's notes.
- 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.
- A Game of Chess. The Chair she sat in, like a burnished thone, Glowed on the marble, where the glass. Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines. From which a golden Cupidon peeped out.
- The Fire Sermon. The river’s tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf. Clutch and sink into the wet bank. The wind. Crosses the brown land, unheard. The nymphs are departed.
- Death by Water. Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell. And the profit and loss. A current under sea.
May 1, 1998 · May 1, 1998. Most Recently Updated. Mar 24, 2021. Copyright Status. Public domain in the USA. Downloads. 1657 downloads in the last 30 days. Project Gutenberg eBooks are always free! Free kindle book and epub digitized and proofread by volunteers.
- T. S. Eliot
- 1922
Burton Rascoe in the "New York. Tribune," characterizes THE WASTE. LAND 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. further, when he says, THE WASTE. LAND, "Is, perhaps, the finest poem of this generation; at all events it is.
Nov 18, 2017 · Musing upon 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. But at my back from time to time I hear. The sound of horns and motors, which shall bring.
