Poetry  |  TS Eliot  |  The Waste Land  |  The Fire Sermon

The Waste Land — The Fire Sermon (Part 2 of 2)

bore me. Richmond and Kew16
Undid me. By Richmond I raised my knees
Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe.”

“My feet are at Moorgate, and my heart
Under my feet. After the event
He wept. He promised ‘a new start’.
I made no comment. What should I resent?”

“On Margate Sands.
I can connect
Nothing with nothing.
The broken fingernails of dirty hands.
My people humble people who expect
Nothing.”
                                        la la
To Carthage then I came17

Burning burning burning burning18
O Lord Thou pluckest me out
O Lord Thou pluckest
burning19