Free Complete Poems and Plays by T. S. Eliot

Sweeney continue his story.
    SWEENEY : This one didn’t get pinched in the end
    But that’s another story too.
    This went on for a couple of months
    Nobody came
    And nobody went
    But he took in the milk and he paid the rent.
    SWARTS : What did he do?
    All that time, what did he do?
    SWEENEY : What did he do! what did he do?
    That don’t apply.
    Talk to live men about what they do.
    He used to come and see me sometimes
    I’d give him a drink and cheer him up.
    DORIS : Cheer him up?
    DUSTY :                                     Cheer him up?
    S WEENEY : Well here again that don’t apply
    But I’ve gotta use words when I talk to you.
    But here’s what I was going to say.
    He didn’t know if he was alive
    and the girl was dead
    He didn’t know if the girl was alive
    and he was dead
    He didn’t know if they were both alive
    or both were dead
    If he was alive then the milkman wasn’t
    and the rent-collector wasn’t
    And if they were alive then he was dead.
    There wasn’t any joint
    There wasn’t any joint
    For when you’re alone
    When you’re alone like he was alone
    You’re either or neither
    I tell you again it don’t apply
    Death or life or life or death
    Death is life and life is death
    I gotta use words when I talk to you
    But if you understand or if you don’t
    That’s nothing to me and nothing to you
    We all gotta do what we gotta do
    We’re gona sit here and drink this booze
    We’re gona sit here and have a tune
    We’re gona stay and we’re gona go
    And somebody’s gotta pay the rent
    DORIS :                                     I know who
    SWEENEY : But that’s nothing to me and nothing to you.
     
    FULL CHORUS: WAUCHOPE, HORSFALL, KLIPSTEIN,
     
    KRUMPACKER
     
When you’re alone in the middle of the night and
        you wake in a sweat and a hell of a fright
When you’re alone in the middle of the bed and
        you wake like someone hit you in the head
You’ve had a cream of a nightmare dream and
        you’ve got the hoo-ha’s coming to you.
     
    Hoo hoo hoo
You dreamt you waked up at seven o’clock and it’s
foggy and it’s damp and it’s dawn and it’s dark
And you wait for a knock and the turning of a lock
           for you know the hangman’s waiting for you.
And perhaps you’re alive
And perhaps you’re dead
Hoo ha ha
Hoo ha ha
Hoo
Hoo
Hoo
K NOCK K NOCK K NOCK
K NOCK K NOCK K NOCK
K NOCK
K NOCK
K NOC K  
     

Coriolan
     
----
     

I. Triumphal March
     
    Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels
Over the paving.
And the flags. And the trumpets. And so many eagles.
How many? Count them. And such a press of people.
We hardly knew ourselves that day, or knew the City.
This is the way to the temple, and we so many crowding the way.
So many waiting, how many waiting? what did it matter, on such a day?
Are they coming? No, not yet. You can see some eagles. And hear the trumpets.
Here they come. Is he coming?
The natural wakeful life of our Ego is a perceiving.
We can wait with our stools and our sausages.
What comes first? Can you see? Tell us. It is
     
    5,800,000 rifles and carbines,
102,000 machine guns,
28,000 trench mortars,
53,000 field and heavy guns,
I cannot tell how many projectiles, mines and fuses,
13,000 aeroplanes,
24,000 aeroplane engines,
50,000 ammunition waggons,
now     55,000 army waggons,
11,000 field kitchens,
1,150 field bakeries.
     
    What a time that took. Will it be he now? No,
Those are the golf club Captains, these the Scouts,
And now the sociét é gymnastique de Poissy
And now come the Mayor and the Liverymen. Look
There he is now, look:
There is no interrogation in his eyes
Or in the hands, quiet over the horse’s neck,
And the eyes watchful, waiting, perceiving, indifferent.
O hidden under the dove’s wing, hidden in the turtle’s breast,
Under the palmtree at noon, under the running water
At the still point of the turning