44444444 quartets back

humility is endless
see, they return, and bring us with them
the evening with the photograph album

at the still point, there the dance is,
but neither arrest nor movement
neither from nor towards

and he i am not eager to rehearse
my thoughts and theory which you have forgotten
a dignified and commodious sacrament

love is itself unmoving, only the cause and end of movement, timeless, and undesiring except in the aspect of time caught in the form of limitation between un-being and being yet the words sufficed to compel the recognition they preceded and he a face still forming

and the rest is prayer, observance, discipline, thought and action the patient is no longer here
you'll not be seen to visit that well
under white sun or yellow moon
you'll never see the bright moon again,
you've now achieved the unalterable
sum of moments
granted you by fate

that the future is a faded song, a royal rose or a lavender spray of wistful regret for those who are not yet here to regret, pressed between yellow leaves of a book that has never been opened
on a halcyon day it is merely a monument, in navigable weather it is always a seamark to lay a course by, but in the sombre season or the sudden fury, is what it always was
and, growing between them, indifference
resembles the others as death resembles life,
being between two lives - unflowering, between
the live and the dead nettle
attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment
from self and from things and from persons
each joining a neighbor, as though speech were a still performance
the dry salvages - presumably les trois sauvages - is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the n this is the one way, and the other is the same, not in movement but abstention from movememnt while the world moves in appetency, on its metalled ways of time past and time future the backward look behind the assurance of recorded history, the backward half-look over the shoulder, towards the primitive terror a periphrastic study in a worn-out poetical fashion,
leaving one still with the intolerable wrestle
with words and meanings
are likewise permanent with such permanence as time has
whether, or not, due to misunderstanding,
having hoped for the wrong things or dreaded the wrong things,
is not in question
and all shall be well and
all manner of thing shall be well
when the tongues of flames are in-folded
into the crowned knot of fire
and the fire and the rose are one
a condition of complete simplicity
costing not less than everything

every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning,
every poem an epitaph
where every word is at home,
taking its place to support the others,
the word neither diffident nor ostentatious,
an easy commerce of the old and the new,
the common word exact without vulgarity,
the formal word precise but not pedantic,
the complete consort dancing together
involved with past and future release omens by sortilege, or tea leaves, riddle the inevitable with playing cards, fiddle with pentagrams or barbituric acids, or dissect the recurrent image into pre-conscious terrors- to explore the womb, or tomb, or dreams
all these are usual pastimes and drugs, and features of the press
and always will be, some of them especially
whether on
the shores of asia, or in the edgware road,
men's curiosity searches past and future
and clings to that dimension