444 
HECTOR IN THE GARDEN. 
VIII. 
Call him Hector, son of Priam f 
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 gentianella’s 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 eyec>. 
x. 
Brazen helm of daffodillies, 
With a glitter towards 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 by leaf; 
Periwinkles interlaced 
Drawn for belt about the waist; 
While the brown bees, humming praises, 
Shot their arrows round the chief 
