{"id":1337,"date":"2012-04-12T19:35:40","date_gmt":"2012-04-12T23:35:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stlydias.org\/blog\/?p=1337"},"modified":"2012-04-12T19:35:40","modified_gmt":"2012-04-12T23:35:40","slug":"an-excerpt-from-the-waste-land-by-t-s-eliot","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/2012\/04\/an-excerpt-from-the-waste-land-by-t-s-eliot\/","title":{"rendered":"An Excerpt from The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>V. What the Thunder Said<\/p>\n<p>After the torchlight red on sweaty faces<br \/>\nAfter the frosty silence in the gardens<br \/>\nAfter the agony in stony places<br \/>\nThe shouting and the crying<br \/>\nPrison and palace and reverberation<br \/>\nOf thunder of spring over distant mountains<br \/>\nHe who was living is now dead<br \/>\nWe who were living are now dying<br \/>\nWith a little patience<\/p>\n<p>Here is no water but only rock<br \/>\nRock and no water and the sandy road<br \/>\nThe road winding above among the mountains<br \/>\nWhich are mountains of rock without water<br \/>\nIf there were water we should stop and drink<br \/>\nAmongst the rock one cannot stop or think<br \/>\nSweat is dry and feet are in the sand<br \/>\nIf there were only water amongst the rock<br \/>\nDead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit<br \/>\nHere one can neither stand nor lie nor sit<br \/>\nThere is not even silence in the mountains<br \/>\nBut dry sterile thunder without rain<br \/>\nThere is not even solitude in the mountains<br \/>\nBut red sullen faces sneer and snarl<br \/>\nFrom doors of mudcracked houses<br \/>\nIf there were water<br \/>\nAnd no rock<br \/>\nIf there were rock<br \/>\nAnd also water<br \/>\nAnd water<br \/>\nA spring<br \/>\nA pool among the rock<br \/>\nIf there were the sound of water only<br \/>\nNot the cicada<br \/>\nAnd dry grass singing<br \/>\nBut sound of water over a rock<br \/>\nWhere the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees<br \/>\nDrip drop drip drop drop drop drop<br \/>\nBut there is no water<\/p>\n<p><em>-Read on Good Friday, April 6, 2012 at St. Lydia&#8217;s<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>V. What the Thunder Said After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying Prison and palace and reverberation Of thunder of spring over distant mountains He who was living is now dead We who were living are now [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[9],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1337"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1337"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1337\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1338,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1337\/revisions\/1338"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1337"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1337"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stlydiasliturgy.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1337"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}