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The Waste Land And Other Poems: The Era-Defining Collection from Modernist Poet T.S. Eliot by
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Jeroen Vandenbossche
is on page 55 of 80
The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.
With the other masquerades
That time resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.
— Mar 14, 2026 12:07AM
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Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.
With the other masquerades
That time resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.
Jeroen Vandenbossche
is on page 50 of 80
You tossed a blanket from the bed,
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
— Mar 13, 2026 02:38PM
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You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
Jeroen Vandenbossche
is on page 40 of 80
“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.”
Poor Mr. Prufrock! 😢
— Mar 11, 2026 02:16PM
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By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
Poor Mr. Prufrock! 😢
