Merry Christmas to you, too, Steve.

Many thanks for your endless patience, helpfulness and willingness to engage, even if/where the question has been asked and answered before...

For many of us in standalone positions, this is an incredibly valuable tool and resource and I am truly grateful for the work and effort that you and the "regular" contributors put in to make it such a supportive and helpful place. :)

Merry Christmas and a happy New Year everyone!

And a big thank you to Steve and everyone else who makes this place an engaged, caring, safe and helpful environment for all the HR professionals out there.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all in the community and many thanks for the help given over the past 12 months xxx

In reply to Susan May:

May all our personal camels be as comfortable and docile and unrefractory as they can possibly  be. And our coming Festive days filled by relaxing gentle warmth punctuated by libations of our sherbets of choice accompanied by soothing silken rustles of sound. And may we all of us then embark on a peaceful, and fulfilling and absolutely satisfactory New Year. And may you, dear colleagues, make of these wonderful words whatever you will:

A cold coming we had of it,

Just the worst time of the year

For a journey, and such a long journey:

The ways deep and the weather sharp,

The very dead of winter.

And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory,

Lying down in the melting snow.

There were times we regretted

The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,

And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling

And running away, and wanting their liquor and women, And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly

And the villages dirty and charging high prices:

A hard time we had of it.

At the end we preferred to travel all night,

Sleeping in snatches,

With the voices singing in our ears, saying

That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,

Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;

With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness, And three trees on the low sky,

And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.

Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,

Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,

And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.

But there was no information, and so we continued

And arriving at evening, not a moment too soon

Finding the place; it was (you might say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, But had thought they were different: the Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms.

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad of another death.

(‘Journey of The Magi’ by TS Eliot)

In reply to David:

Perfect. Thank you, David... and see you on the other side!

In reply to David:

(Original formatting got trashed by the system after making slight edit  - sorry about that)

- crossed with your above post, Steve  - all very very Best indeed!!

In reply to David:

In the interests of accuracy, here's the correctly laid-out text:



tmas season.




About the Poem





Forms

Monologue




Themes

Journeys
Religion
Age
Christmas
Birth
Death
Norton Anthology




About the poet


T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) as a poet and critic came to define the modernist movement and still...


Visit poet page


Links






Faber and Faber


Guided tours


This poem features in guided tours by:


Dr Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury


All Guided Tours







Journey of the Magi


'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins,
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.


from Collected Poems 1909-1962 by TS Eliot (Faber, 1974)

In reply to David:

well, the system still interposed, but at least better than previous attempt.....