After the torchlight red on sweaty faces. After the frosty silence in the gardens. After the agony in stony places. The crying and the shouting. Prison and place and reverberation. Of thunder of spring over distant mountains. He was living is now dead. We who were living are now dying. With a little patience
T. S. EliotAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: September 26, 1888
- Died: January 4, 1965
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