You gave me hyacinths first a year ago; They called me the hyacinth girl.' — Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden, Your arms full, a… - T. S. Eliot

I was neither Living nor dead, and I knew nothing, Looking into the heart of light, the silence.

Till Human voices wake us, and we drown.

Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question

She turns and looks a moment in the glass,
Hardly aware of her departed lover;
Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:
“Well now that’s done: and I’m glad it’s over”.
When lovely woman stoops to folly and
Paces about her room again, alone,
She smoothes her hair with automatic hand,
And puts a record on the gramophone