Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HECTOR IN THE GARDEN, by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Nine years old! The first of any Last Line: And though hector is twice dead. Subject(s): Gardens & Gardening | ||||||||
I NINE years old! The first of any Seem the happiest years that come: Yet when I was nine, I said No such word! I thought instead That the Greeks had used as many In besieging Ilium. II Nine green years had scarcely brought me To my childhood's haunted spring; I had life, like flowers and bees. In betwixt the country trees, And the sun the pleasure taught me Which he teacheth every thing. III If the rain fell, there was sorrow: Little head leant on the pane, Little finger drawing down it The long trailing drops upon it, And the 'Rain, rain, come to-morrow,' Said for charm against the rain. IV Such a charm was right Canidian, Though you meet it with a jeer! If I said it long enough, Then the rain hummed dimly off, And the thrush with his pure Lydian Was left only to the ear; V And the sun and I together Went a-rushing out of doors: We our tender spirits drew Over hill and dale in view, Glimmering hither, glimmering thither In the footsteps of the showers. VI Underneath the chestnuts dripping, Through the grasses wet and fair, Straight I sought my garden-ground With the laurel on the mound, And the pear-tree oversweeping A side-shadow of green air. VII In the garden lay supinely A huge giant wrought of spade! Arms and legs were stretched at length In a passive giant strength, -- The fine meadow turf, cut finely, Round them laid and interlaid. VIII Call him Hector, son of Priam! Such his title and degree. With my rake I smoothed his brow, Both his cheeks I weeded through, But a rhymer such as I am, Scarce can sing his dignity. IX Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies: Nose of gillyflowers and box; Scented grasses put for locks, Which a little breeze at pleasure Set a-waving round his eyes: X Brazen helm of daffodillies, With a glitter toward the light; Purple violets for the mouth, Breathing perfumes west and south; And a sword of flashing lilies, Holden ready for the fight: XI And a breastplate made of daisies, Closely fitting, leaf on leaf; Periwinkles interlaced Drawn for belt about the waist; While the brown bees, humming praises, Shot their arrows round the chief. XII And who knows (I sometimes wondered) If the disembodied soul Of old Hector, once of Troy, Might not take a dreary joy Here to enter -- if it thundered, Rolling up the thunder-roll? XIII Rolling this way from Troy-ruin, In this body rude and rife Just to enter, and take rest 'Neath the daisies of the breast -- They, with tender roots, renewing His heroic heart to life? XIV Who could know? I sometimes started At a motion or a sound! Did his mouth speak -- naming Troy With an 'ororororoi'? Did the pulse of the Strong-hearted Make the daisies tremble round? XV It was hard to answer, often: But the birds sang in the tree, But the little birds sang bold In the pear-tree green and old, And my terror seemed to soften Through the courage of their glee. XVI Oh, the birds, the tree, the ruddy And white blossoms sleek with rain! Oh, my garden rich with pansies! Oh, my childhood's bright romances! All revive, like Hector's body, And I see them stir again. XVII 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! XVIII That no dreamer, no neglecter Of 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOVEMBER GARDEN: AN ELEGY by ANDREW HUDGINS AN ENGLISH GARDEN IN AUSTRIA (SEEN AFTER DER ROSENKAVALIER) by RANDALL JARRELL ACROSS THE BROWN RIVER by GALWAY KINNELL A DESERTED GARDEN by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS NOT THE SWEET CICELY OF GERARDES HERBALL by MARGARET AVISON AN OLD GARDEN by HERBERT BASHFORD A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |
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