YouTube: Four Quartets | Burnt Norton | T.S. Eliot | Audio | Word Aloud
T.S. Eliot’s Burnt Norton, the first poem in his Four Quartets, explores themes of time, memory, and existence. Written in 1935, Burnt Norton examines the nature of time and human experience.
The poem begins with a meditation on time. Central to Burnt Norton is the imagery of a house and its gardens. This setting serves as a symbol of the transient nature of human experience. The garden, with its paths and hedges, represents choices and possibilities that lie before us, as well as those left behind. Eliot invites readers to walk through the garden, to reflect on moments missed and moments seized, and to understand the weight of decisions.
Eliot’s language in Burnt Norton captures the essence of reality and the echoes of choices left unmade. He intertwines introspection with broader themes, delving into how moments of enlightenment can be found within the ordinary flow of life. The poem’s structure reflects a composition, with its rhythmic and repetitive patterns mirroring cycles of time and thought.
Burnt Norton expresses Eliot’s quest for understanding and his search for meaning amidst the complexities of the world. Through this journey, Eliot invites readers to reflect on their own experiences of time and the significance of the present moment in the unfolding tapestry of life.
Throughout, Eliot examines how human consciousness interacts with time. Eliot presents time as a dimension that is not fully understood but deeply felt. This exploration is not merely abstract; it is grounded in everyday moments and decisions that shape our lives.
Eliot’s exploration of time in Burnt Norton touches on the theme of potential. The garden is a place of potentialities, where every path represents a possible future. Yet, the poem reminds us that not all paths can be taken, and some potentials must remain unrealized. This idea resonates with the human condition, where every choice carries the weight of what is left behind.
Eliot suggests that memory is not static; it evolves with our understanding and shapes our perception of the present. This dynamic relationship between memory and time underscores the fluidity of human experience.
The structure of Burnt Norton reflects its thematic concerns. The poem is divided into five sections, each exploring different aspects of time and human experience. This division creates a sense of progression, mirroring the passage of time and the unfolding of thought. The rhythmic patterns and repetitions within the poem evoke the cyclical nature of time, reinforcing the idea that time is not linear but a series of recurring moments.
Four Quartets | Burnt Norton | T.S. Eliot
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
II
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
Clot the bedded axle-tree.
The trilling wire in the blood
Sings below inveterate scars
Appeasing long forgotten wars.
The dance along the artery
The circulation of the lymph
Are figured in the drift of stars
Ascend to summer in the tree
We move above the moving tree
In light upon the figured leaf
And hear upon the sodden floor
Below, the boarhound and the boar
Pursue their pattern as before
But reconciled among the stars.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where.
And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.
The inner freedom from the practical desire,
The release from action and suffering, release from the inner
And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded
By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving,
Erhebung without motion, concentration
Without elimination, both a new world
And the old made explicit, understood
In the completion of its partial ecstasy,
The resolution of its partial horror.
Yet the enchainment of past and future
Woven in the weakness of the changing body,
Protects mankind from heaven and damnation
Which flesh cannot endure.
Time past and time future
Allow but a little consciousness.
To be conscious is not to be in time
But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden,
The moment in the arbour where the rain beat,
The moment in the draughty church at smokefall
Be remembered; involved with past and future.
Only through time time is conquered.
III
Here is a place of disaffection
Time before and time after
In a dim light: neither daylight
Investing form with lucid stillness
Turning shadow into transient beauty
With slow rotation suggesting permanence
Nor darkness to purify the soul
Emptying the sensual with deprivation
Cleansing affection from the temporal.
Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker
Over the strained time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time,
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs
Time before and time after.
Eructation of unhealthy souls
Into the faded air, the torpid
Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,
Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,
Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here
Not here the darkness, in this twittering world.
Descend lower, descend only
Into the world of perpetual solitude,
World not world, but that which is not world,
Internal darkness, deprivation
And destitution of all property,
Desiccation of the world of sense,
Evacuation of the world of fancy,
Inoperancy of the world of spirit;
This is the one way, and the other
Is the same, not in movement
But abstention from movement; while the world moves
In appetency, on its metalled ways
Of time past and time future.
IV
Time and the bell have buried the day,
The black cloud carries the sun away.
Will the sunflower turn to us, will the clematis
Stray down, bend to us; tendril and spray
Clutch and cling?
Chill
Fingers of yew be curled
Down on us? After the kingfisher’s wing
Has answered light to light, and is silent, the light is still
At the still point of the turning world.
V
Words move, music moves
Only in time; but that which is only living
Can only die. Words, after speech, reach
Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,
Can words or music reach
The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness.
Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts,
Not that only, but the co-existence,
Or say that the end precedes the beginning,
And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now. Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still. Shrieking voices
Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering,
Always assail them. The Word in the desert
Is most attacked by voices of temptation,
The crying shadow in the funeral dance,
The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera.
The detail of the pattern is movement,
As in the figure of the ten stairs.
Desire itself is movement
Not in itself desirable;
Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage
Quick now, here, now, always—
Ridiculous the waste sad time
Stretching before and after.
- George Herbert | The Temple | The Church | The Church-Floore | Christian Poems | Metaphysical Poetry
The poem describes a metaphorical interior of a sacred space. This symbolizes a concept of the human heart as a temple built by God. Each element of the architecture serves as an allegory for spiritual virtues, struggles, and the divine influence in maintaining the integrity of the space. The poet weaves a contemplative vision that ties physical imagery to theological themes [ … ]
The three synoptic Gospels tell us of this episode of Jesus’ life, when he returned home to Nazareth and preached in the synagogue there. Luke’s Gospel gives us the text of Isaiah read by Jesus, in which Jesus’ announces his messianic mission – to bring the good news to the poor, to live and to identify with the poor, to heal us and set us at liberty from sin. As Jesus closes the book, he omits the following from Isaiah 61: 2: ‘…and the day of vengeance of our God.’ This is deliberate interruption. Jesus is not come to maintain old enmities. Jesus’ way is peace. It is the people of all the world who are to be blessed in Christ [ … ]
Christian Art | A Boy At Prayer With Jesus | Eucharist Office Of Readings | Eastertide Week 3, Sunday | A Reading From The First Apology Of Saint Justin Martyr In Defence Of The Christians | Celebration Of The Eucharist ‘Celebration of the eucharist.’ Saint Justin Martyr: Celebration of the Eucharist Saint Justin Martyr’s account of Christian Eucharistic worship, written around 155 AD, is one of the earliest and most significant descriptions of the liturgy outside of the New Testament. Composed as part of his First Apology—a formal defense of Christianity addressed to the Roman Emperor Antoninus Pius—this passage reveals not only the centrality of the Eucharist in the life of the early Church but also the theological, communal, and sacrificial dimensions of Christian worship as it was practised just a few generations after the apostles. Faith, Baptism And The Moral Life As Prerequisites Justin opens by affirming that no one may partake of the Eucharist unless they believe the Church’s teachings, have been baptized (‘washed in the regenerating waters’), and live according to Christ’s commands. This threefold requirement—orthodoxy (right belief), sacramental initiation (baptism), and orthopraxy (right living)—highlights the deeply integrated nature of early Christian identity. Eucharistic communion was not a casual or symbolic act; it was a profound participation in the mystery of Christ, accessible only to those who were fully incorporated into his Body, the Church. Real Presence And Eucharistic Transformation Justin’s teaching on the Eucharist is unmistakably clear: the bread and wine, through the ‘prayer of thanksgiving’ (Greek: eucharistia), become the body and blood of the incarnate Jesus Christ. This is not metaphorical language. Drawing on the Incarnation itself as an analogy, Justin explains that just as Christ became flesh by the power of the Word, so the Eucharistic elements become his flesh and blood by the power of the same Word, invoked in prayer. This theological reasoning lays a foundation for later doctrinal developments such as the Church’s formal teaching on the Real Presence and transubstantiation. Notably, this passage predates the formalization of these doctrines by centuries, yet the essential belief is already fully formed—a powerful testimony to the apostolic origin of the Church’s sacramental theology. The Apostolic Command And Continuity Justin grounds the Eucharistic rite in the direct command of Jesus: Do this in memory of me. He attributes this tradition to the apostles’ ‘recollections’ (anamneses), which are equated with the Gospels. This demonstrates the early Church’s consciousness of its liturgical life being not a novel invention but the faithful continuation of Christ’s instruction, carried on through apostolic succession. The fact that this teaching is described in a public defence of Christianity underscores Justin’s desire to correct Roman misunderstandings about Christian worship, which had been accused of cannibalism due to misinterpretations of Eucharistic language. Sunday Worship And Scriptural Proclamation Justin describes the Sunday assembly (koinē synaxis) as a weekly gathering of Christians from both city and countryside, centered around the reading of Scripture—first the writings of the prophets (the Old Testament), then the apostolic writings (what we now call the New Testament). After the readings, the presider (likely a bishop or priest) offers a homily, encouraging moral and spiritual growth. This structure is clearly recognizable in the Mass today: the Liturgy of the Word followed by the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Importantly, Justin situates this practice within the broader theological framework of the Lord’s Day—the first day of creation and the day of the Resurrection. Thus, Sunday worship is simultaneously eschatological and cosmological: it celebrates not only the new creation in Christ but also the re-creation of the world through his rising from the dead. The Eucharistic Prayer And Communion Justin’s account continues with the presentation of bread, wine, and water, followed by a Eucharistic Prayer during which the president offers thanks ‘to the best of his ability’, and the people respond with ‘Amen.’ This prayer is the epicentre of the liturgy, paralleling the Canon of the Mass. The Eucharist is then distributed to those present, and deacons carry it to those absent—perhaps the sick or imprisoned. This detail reveals the strong pastoral and communal dimension of the Eucharist. It is not a private devotion but a gift of Christ shared with the whole body, particularly the vulnerable. Charity And Ecclesial Responsibility The offering of gifts by the wealthy, administered by the president and used for the support of the poor, widows, orphans, and the imprisoned, reflects how closely the Eucharist was tied to practical charity. The Eucharist made real the communion of the faithful with Christ and with one another. It was not only a mystical participation in Christ’s body but also a lived expression of solidarity and sacrificial love. This aspect finds resonance in Acts 2:42–47 and remains central to Catholic social teaching. Apostolic Tradition In Action Justin’s testimony, written a mere century after the Resurrection, powerfully confirms that the early Church’s Eucharistic worship—centred on the Word, Sacrament, community, and charity—was already well-developed and firmly grounded in apostolic tradition. His witness is critical not only for understanding the historical roots of the Mass but also for deepening modern appreciation of the Eucharist’s enduring meaning. In our own time, when the mystery of the Eucharist is often misunderstood, taken for granted, or even rejected, Justin’s words remind us that the Church has always confessed the true and substantial presence of Christ in the Eucharist. His account also reinforces the communal, sacrificial, and transformative nature of this sacrament, which, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, is the ‘source and summit of the Christian life’ (CCC 1324). A Reading From The First Apology Of Saint Justin Martyr In Defence Of The Christians | Celebration Of The Eucharist No one may share the Eucharist with us unless he believes that what we teach is true, unless he is washed in the regenerating waters of baptism for the remission of his sins, and unless he lives in accordance with the principles given us by Christ. We do not consume the eucharistic bread and wine as […]
