Rhapsody on a Windy Night
TWELVE o’clock.

Along the reaches of the street

Held in a lunar synthesis,

Whispering lunar incantations

Dissolve the floors of memory

And all its clear relations

Its divisions and precisions,

Every street lamp that I pass

Beats like a fatalistic drum,

And through the spaces of the dark

Midnight shakes the memory

As a madman shakes a dead geranium.



Half-past one,

The street-lamp sputtered,

The street-lamp muttered,

The street-lamp said, “Regard that woman

Who hesitates toward you in the light of the door

Which opens on her like a grin.

You see the border of her dress

Is torn and stained with sand,

And you see the corner of her eye

Twists like a crooked pin.”



The memory throws up high and dry

A crowd of twisted things;

A twisted branch upon the beach

Eaten smooth, and polished

As if the world gave up

The secret of its skeleton,

Stiff and white.

A broken spring in a factory yard,

Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left

Hard and curled and ready to snap.



Half-past two,

The street-lamp said,

“Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,

Slips out its tongue

And devours a morsel of rancid butter.”

So the hand of the child, automatic,

Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.

I could see nothing behind that child’s eye.

I have seen eyes in the street

Trying to peer through lighted shutters,

And a crab one afternoon in a pool,

An old crab with barnacles on his back,

Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.



Half-past three,

The lamp sputtered,

The lamp muttered in the dark.

The lamp hummed:

“Regard the moon,

La lune ne garde aucune rancune,

She winks a feeble eye,

She smiles into corners.

She smooths the hair of the grass.

The moon has lost her memory.

A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,

Her hand twists a paper rose,

That smells of dust and eau de Cologne,

She is alone

With all the old nocturnal smells

That cross and cross across her brain.”

The reminiscence comes

Of sunless dry geraniums

And dust in crevices,

Smells of chestnuts in the streets,

And female smells in shuttered rooms,

And cigarettes in corridors

And cocktail smells in bars.



The lamp said,

“Four o’clock,

Here is the number on the door.

Memory!

You have the key,

The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair.

Mount.

The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,

Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.”



The last twist of the knife.

what is a rhapsody?
In art and literature, rhapsody may mean:
  • Rhapsody (music), an enthusiastic instrumental composition of indefinite form
  • A work of epic poetry, or part of one, that is suitable for recitation at one time, such as a book of Homer's Odyssey.

themes in this poem include memory, inner 'turbulence' and isolation


‘TWELVE o’clock’ – magical time, Cinderella
Lyrics to song ‘cinderella’
Cinderella cinderella, pretty pretty pretty cinderella
it's late now while your lips were kissin' mine i forgot to watch the time and i'm sorry cinderella cinderella, pretty pretty pretty cinderella i promise promised we'd be home on time i bet cha done think it was just a line cinderella twelve o'clock, twelve o'clock was what we bargained for what are we gonna tell your mom and dad when we're at your front door cinderella cinderella, pretty pretty pretty cinderella have faith now i am sure the one above will preserve our lasting love cinderella it's late now i promise twelve o'clock, twelve o'clock was what we bargained for now what do i tell your mother and dad when were at your front door oh cinderella cindrella, pretty pretty cinderella have faith now i am sure the one above will preserve our lasting love cinderella whoa such a pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty Cinderella





http://www.google.co.uk/imgres?imgurl=http://images1.fanpop.com/images/photos/2400000/Cinderella-Wallpaper-disney-princess-2428428-1024-768.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.fanpop.com/spots/disney-princess/images/2428428/title/cinderella-wallpaper&usg=__dtMeOE0LaAAwP8qDj_vRVljCcoU=&h=768&w=1024&sz=347&hl=en&start=0&zoom=1&tbnid=EeM_96paCLmN9M:&tbnh=157&tbnw=245&ei=ZYFFTfqwBcyChQew0Lm7AQ&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dcinderella%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26biw%3D1280%26bih%3D685%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=rc&dur=183&oei=ZYFFTfqwBcyChQew0Lm7AQ&esq=1&page=1&ndsp=20&ved=1t:429,r:9,s:0&tx=201&ty=60



Cologne or Eau de Cologne is a toiletry, a perfume in a style that originated from Cologne, Germany. It is nowadays a generic term for scented formulations in typical concentration of 2-5% essential oils. However as of today cologne is a blend of extracts, alcohol, and water. () Colognes may be used by men or women but are generally marketed to men as an alternative to perfume. Cologne is also a term for a German town.



In a base of dilute ethanol (70-90%), Eau de Cologne contains a mixture of citrus oils including oils of lemon, orange, tangerine,bergamot, lime, grapefruit and neroli. It can also contain oils of lavender, rosemary, thyme, petitgrain (orange leaf), and jasmine.__ This poem is an example of how Eliot tries to reject Romanticism in his modernist style of poetry, for example:


The street-lamp sputtered,

The street-lamp muttered,
However, Yeats, particularly in his earlier poems, writes in a more lyrical style that conforms to the style of the Romantics, for example, in 'Down by the Salley Gardens', he writes:Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
This rhyming couplet is far more aesthetically pleasing than that of Eliot's in 'Rhapsody', and more typical of the 19th Century, Romantic style of poetry - Loulwa.

Tricky one! Pos "He Wishes for The Cloths Of Heaven"- they both have a sense of despair and the need for more. Yeat's is happier though!