The Boston Evening Transcript

By Thomas Stearns Eliot

The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript

Sway in the blind like a field of ripe corn.

When evening quickens faintly in the street,

Wakening the appetites of life in some

And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,

I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning

Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld

If the street were time and he at the end of the street,

And I say, “Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript.”