Read the excerpt from "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock."


And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet— and here’s no great matter;


Which words best indicate that Prufrock feels anxious?

wept, fasted, prayed

peacefully, smoothed, strength

tea, cakes, ices

head, platter, prophet