[DamselFly]

Let us go, then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats,
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels,
Of saw-dust restaurants with oyster shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to ask an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask "What is it?"

Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go,
Talking of Michelangelo.

(T.S. Elliott)