Page:Prufrock and Other Observations (1917).djvu/15

Rh And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . ..

I should have been a pair of ragged claws Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.



And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! Smoothed by long fingers, Asleep. . . tired. . . or it malingers, Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me. Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed, Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter, I am no prophet—and here's no great matter; I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all, After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,