You take me often to these shoresStranger though you areWasted by the times, the brass, the braveryA long long way from homeFor France's broken frameSt. Valery's hollow ground lies near you. It's only thorugh your letters homeFaded now by timeThat I so late have come to know youI feel the pain insideYou took great care to hideFrom those who waited long for only sorrow. And oh the truthCould make us seeThe waste that was to followFor you are stillThe Garden BoyIn St. Valery's broken hollow. Now still your garden growsOn the home farms' wooded roadWhere the heavy horses started out their dayLed by the man once proudHe despairs your distant shroudYour young heart was the reason for his labours And oh the truthCould make us seeThe wase that was to followFor you are stillThe Garden BoyIn St. Valery's broken hollow