Henry Austin Dobson

O BABBLING Spring, than glass more clear,
Worthy of wreath and cup sincere,
To-morrow shall a kid be thine
With swelled and sprouting brows for sign,—…

An Epilogue To Any Book"FINIS at last--the end, the End, the END!
No more of paragraphs to prune or mend;
No more blue pencil, with its ruthless line,
To blot the phrase 'particularly fine';…

I intended an Ode,
And it turned to a Sonnet.
It began à la mode,
I intended an Ode;…

WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum,
Across the years you seem to come,—
Across the years with nymph-like head,
And wind-blown brows unfilleted;…

Rose kissed me to-day.
Will she kiss me tomorrow?
Let it be as it may,
Rose kissed me today.…

Old friends are best! And so to you
Again I send, in closer throng,
No unfamliar shapes of song,
But those that once you liked and knew.…

O SINGER of the field and fold,
Theocritus! Pan’s pipe was thine,—
Thine was the happier Age of Gold.For thee the scent of new-turned mould,
The bee-hives, and the murmuring pine,…

'Tis an old dial, dark with many a stain;
In summer crowned with drifting orchard bloom,
Tricked in the autumn with the yellow rain,
And white in winter like a marble tomb.And round about its gray, time-eaten brow…

YES; when the ways oppose—
When the hard means rebel,
Fairer the work out-grows,—
More potent far the spell.O Poet, then, forbear…

Melek the sultan, tired and wan,
Nodded at noon on the divan.Beside the fountain lingered near
Jamil the bard, and the vizier ---Old Yusuf, cross and hard to please;
Then Jamil sang, in words like these:Slim is Butheina -- slim is she…

King Philip had vaunted his claims;
He had sworn for a year he would sack us;
With an army of heathenish names
He was coming to fagot and stack us;…

'More Poets yet!'-I hear him say,
Arming his heavy hand to slay;-
'Despite my skill and 'swashing blow,'
They seem to sprout where'er I go;-…

DEAR COSMOPOLITAN,—I know
I should address you a Rondeau,
Or else announce what I ’ve to say
At least en Ballade fratriseé…

When Burbadge played, the stage was bare
Of fount and temple, tower and stair;
Two backswords eked a battle out;
Two supers made a rabble rout;…

Bards of the Future! you that come
With striding march, and roll of drum,
What will your newest challenge be
To our prose-bound community?…

Shade of Herrick, Muse of Locker,
Help me sing of Knickerbocker!
Boughton, had you bid me chant
Hymns to Peter Stuyvesant,…

Time goes, you say? Ah no!
Alas, Time stays, we go;
Or else, were this not so,
What need to chain the hours,…

HOW steadfastly she worked at it!
How lovingly had drest
With all her would-be-mother’s wit
That little rosy nest!How longingly she ’d hung on it!—…

OUT from the City’s dust and roar,
You wandered through the open door;
Paused at a plaything pail and spade
Across a tiny hillock laid;…

When Spring comes laughing
By vale and hill,
By wind-flower walking
And daffodil,-…

The Printer's is a happy lot:
Alone of all professions,
No fateful smudges ever blot
His earliest 'impressions.'The outgrowth of his youthful ken…

Here is this leafy place
Quiet he lies,
Cold, with his sightless face
Turn'd to the skies:…

You bid me try, blue-eyes, to write
A Rondeau. What! - forthwith? - tonight?
Reflect. Some skill I have, 'tis true; But thirteen lines! - and rimed on two! 'Refrain' as well. Ah, Hapless plight!Still, there are five lines - ranged aright.
These Gallic bonds, I feared, would fright…

HERE in this sequester'd close
Bloom the hyacinth and rose,
Here beside the modest stock
Flaunts the flaring hollyhock;…