Ruhul Amin

Gerontion BY T. S. ELIOT   Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.   Here I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting…

Preludes BY T. S. ELIOT I The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o’clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And…

from Observations: La Figlia che Piange

Cousin Nancy BY T. S. ELIOT Miss Nancy Ellicott Strode across the hills and broke them, Rode across the hills and broke them — The barren New England hills — Riding to hounds Over the cow-pasture. Miss Nancy Ellicott smoked And…

The Boston Evening Transcript BY T. S. ELIOT The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn. When evening quickens faintly in the street, Wakening the appetites of life in some And to others…

Miss Helen Slingsby was my maiden aunt, And lived in a small house near a fashionable square Cared for by servants to the number of four. Now when she died there was silence in heaven And silence at her end…