His name?
The Bard has not handed it down to fame.
A sudden vision of his youth, no more
Than a parenthesis of lines, some score.
In words how little we are told;—and yet
How impossible for us to forget
That haunting figure, in his parterres made
Out of the wild with his own brain for spade!
For not in Virgil’s verse alone he lives;
In all Earth’s gardens the “Corycian” survives!