When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay, br And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings, br Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say, br 'He was a man who used to notice such things'? br br If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelid's soundless blink, br The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alight br Upon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think, br 'To him this must have been a familiar sight.' br br If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm, br When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn, br One may say, 'He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm, br But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.