Life and Existence

In my beginning is my end.

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose garden.

Garlic and sapphires in the mud Clot the bedded axle-tree. The trilling wire in the blood Sings below inveterate scars And reconciles forgotten wars.

Human kind cannot bear very much reality. 6

Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past.

The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason.

Saint and Martyr rule from the tomb.

Saint and Martyr rule from the tomb.

They know and do not know, what it is to act or suffer. They know and do not know, that acting is suffering.

Yet we have gone on living, Living and partly living.

Yet we have gone on living, Living and partly living.

What seas what shores what gray rocks and what islands What water lapping the bow And scent of pine and the woodthrush singing through the fog What images return O my daughter.

Stone, bronze, stone, steel, stone, oakleaves, horses’ heels Over the paving.

Wavering between the profit and the loss In this brief transit where the dreams cross The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying.

The time. Redeem The unread vision in the higher dream While jeweled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled About the center of the silent Word.

Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown, Lilac and brown hair; Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair, Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair Climbing the third stair.

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly But merely vans to beat the air The air which is now thoroughly small and dry Smaller and dryer than the will Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

Two live as one One live as two Two live as three Under the bam Under the boo Under the bamboo tree.

Birth, and copulation, and death. That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks.

Birth, and copulation, and death. That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks.

Birth, and copulation, and death. That’s all the facts when you come to brass tacks.