vw Waves part six middle age Flashcards
clear- cut and unequivocal I am too
there it stands, my name
yet a vast inheritance of experience
is packed in me
if I deviate, glancing this way or that way
I shall fall like snow and be wasted
there is no respite here, no shadow made of quivering leaves, or alcove to which
one can retreat from the sun, to sit, with a lover, in the cool of the evening
the weight of the world is on
our shoulders
this is life; Mr Pretice at four; Mr Eyres at four-thirty
I like to hear the soft sound of the lift and the thud with which it stops on my landing
if I press on I will inherit a chair and a rugs place in Surrey with glass houses,
and some rare conifer, melon or flowing tree which other merchants will envy
Percival has died ( he died in Egypt; he died in Greece;
all deaths are one death)
Susan has children; Neville mounts rapidly
to conspicuous heights
The clouds change perpetually over our
houses
I do this, do that, and again do this
and then that
I am no longer January, May or any other season, but I am all spun to a fine
thread round the cradle, wrapping in a cocoon made of my own blood the delicate limbs of my baby
Sleep, I say, and feel within me uprush some wilder, darker violence, so that I would fell down with one blow any
intruder, any snatcher, who would break into this room and wake the sleeper
whether it is summer or winter I no longer know by the moor grass, and the heath flower;
only the steam on the window pane or the frost on the window pane
sleep I say desiring sleep to fall like a blanket of down and cover these
weak limbs; demanding life
pass by, making of my own body a hollow, a warm
shelter for my child to sleep in
[Susan] so life fills my veins
so life pours through my limbs
[Susan] so I am drive forward until
I could cry
yet more will come
more children; more cradles; more baskets in the kitchen and hams ripening; and onions glistening; more beds of lettuce and potatoes
[jinny] people are too soon gone
let us catch them