Seven o’clock
Ah , captain , how often have we sailed those voyages together ! What grand headway we made as we scoured the tropics in the heel of the trade-wind , our ship threading archipelagoes whose virgin forests stared at us in wonder , all their strange flowers opening toward us , seeking to allure us and put us to sleep with their dangerous perfumes . But we always guessed the snare , we saw the points of the assegais gleaming amid the tall grasses ; you gave the word in your full , deep voice , and our way lay infinite before us ; we followed it , always on the track of new lands , new discoveries , until we reached the fatal isle of Owhyhee , the spot where this terrestrial globe is spotted with a tear -- for I wept over you , my captain , at the age when tears unlock themselves and flow easily from a heart filled with enchantment ! Seven o'clock sounded from the cathedral ; the garden door slammed to ; my uncle was returning . I saw him coming down the winding path , hat in hand , with bowed head . He did not stop before his graftings ; he passed the clump of petunias without giving them that all-embracing glance I know so well , the glance of the rewarded gardener . He gave no word of encouragement to the Chinese duck which waddled down the path in front of him .