The Waste Land — IV. DEATH BY WATER
The Waste Land — IV. DEATH BY WATER
T. S. Eliot
Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead,
Forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell
And the profit and loss.
A current under sea
Picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell
He passed the stages of his age and youth
Entering the whirlpool.
Gentile or Jew
O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, 320
Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
Complete five-part poem in the 1922 source edition; Eliot’s notes remain available through the source link.
Read the original source ↗
