Thursday 26 January 2012

prufrock

I grow old... I grow old... 
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. 


Shall  part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? 
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. 
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. 


I do not think they will sing to me. 


I have seen them riding seaward on the waves 
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back 
When the wind blows the water white and black. 


We have lingered in the chambers of the sea 
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 
Till human voices wake us, and we drown. 



T.S. Eliot (from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock)

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