HECTOR IN THE GARDEN.
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h, the birds, the tree, the ruddyAnd white blossoms sleek with rain 1Oh, my garden rich with pansies !Oh, my childhood's bright romances I All revive, like Hector's body,And I see them stir again. And despite life's changes, chances,And despite the deathbell's toll,They press on me in full seeming.Help, some angel ! stay this dreaming ! As the birds sang in the branches,Sing God's patience through my soul ! That no dreamer, no neglecterOf the present's work unsped,I may wake up and be doing.Life's heroic ends pursuing. Though my past is dead as Hector,And though Hector is twice dead.
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