Thomas Stearns Eliot

(1888-1965 / Missouri / United States)

Thomas Stearns Eliot Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
1. Ash Wednesday 1/13/2003
2. The Love Song Of J Alfred Prufrock 1/3/2003
3. The Waste Land 1/13/2003
4. A Cooking Egg 12/31/2002
5. Macavity: The Mystery Cat 12/31/2002
6. The Hollow Men 1/3/2003
7. The Naming Of Cats 1/13/2003
8. The Old Gumbie Cat 1/13/2003
9. Eyes That Last I Saw In Tears 1/3/2003
10. Gerontion 5/17/2001
11. Growltiger's Last Stand 1/3/2003
12. Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town 1/13/2003
13. The Song Of The Jellicles 1/13/2003
14. Skimbleshanks: The Railway Cat 1/1/2004
15. Four Quartets 1: Burnt Norton 1/13/2003
16. The Rum Tum Tugger 1/13/2003
17. Four Quartets 3: The Dry Salvages 1/13/2003
18. Preludes 5/17/2001
19. Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding 1/13/2003
20. Mr. Mistoffelees 1/13/2003
21. The Journey Of The Magi 1/3/2003
22. Burnt Norton 1/3/2003
23. Four Quartets 2: East Coker 1/13/2003
24. Journey Of The Magi 1/13/2003
25. The Ad-Dressing Of Cats 1/13/2003
26. Whispers Of Immortality 5/17/2001
27. Portrait Of A Lady 1/3/2003
28. Four Quartets 5/17/2001
29. East Coker 1/3/2003
30. Mungojerrie And Rumpelteazer 1/13/2003
31. Old Deuteronomy 1/13/2003
32. Rhapsody On A Windy Night 5/17/2001
33. Hysteria 5/17/2001
34. Little Gidding 1/3/2003
35. Aunt Helen 5/17/2001
36. Spleen 1/3/2003
37. To Walter De La Mare 1/3/2003
38. Gus: The Theatre Cat 1/3/2003
39. Sweeney Erect 5/17/2001
40. Dans Le Restaurant 5/17/2001
Best Poem of Thomas Stearns Eliot

Ash Wednesday

I

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing ...

Read the full of Ash Wednesday

Conversation Galante

I observe: 'Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)
It may be Prester John's balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travellers to their distress.'
She then: 'How you digress!'

And I then: 'Some one frames upon the keys
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain

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