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 aged eagle stretch its
wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
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 again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for
one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are
and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to
construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too
much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon
us
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.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour
of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our
death.
T.S. Eliot
