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HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON
English poet, critic and biographer
(1840 - 1921)

In merest prudence men should teach . . .
  That science ranks as monstrous things
    Two pairs of upper limbs; so wings--
      E'en Angel's wings!--are fictions.
      - A Fairy Tale [Angels]

All passes, Art alone
  Enduring stays to us;
    The Bust out-lasts the throne,--
      The coin, Tiberius.
      - Ars Victrix,
        imitated from Theophile Gautier [Art]

The ladies of St. James's!
  They're painted to the eyes;
    Their white is stays for ever,
      Their red it never dies;
        But Phyllida, my Phillida!
          Her colour comes and goes;
            It trembles to a lily,--
              It wavers to a rose.
      - At the Sign of the Lyre [Beauty]

Across the noisy street
  I hear him careless throw
    One warning utterance sweet;
      Then faint at first, and low,
        The full notes closer grow;
          Hard, what a torrent gush!
            They pour, they overflow--
              Sing on, sing on, O thrush!
      - Ballad of the Thrush [Thrushes]

Carry his body hence!
  Kings must have slaves:
    Kings climb to eminence
      Over men's graves:
        So this man's eye is dim;
          Throw the earth over him!
      - Before Sedan [War]

Time goes, you say? Ah, no!
  Alas, Times stays, we go.
      - Proverbs in Porcelain
         (The Paradox of Time, st. 1) [Time]

In the School of Coquettes
  Madam Rose is a scholar,--
    O, they fish with all nets
      In the School of Coquettes!
        When her brooch she forgets
          'Tis to show her new collar;
            In the School of Coquettes
              Madam Rose is a scholar!
      - Rose-Leaves--Circe [Coquetry]

When the brain gets as dry as an empty nut,
  When the reason stands on its squarest toes,
    When the mind (like a beard) has a "formal cut,"--
      There is a place and enough for the pains of prose;
        But whenever the May-blood stires and glows,
          And the young year draws to the "golden prime,"
            And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose,--
              Then hey! for the ripple of laughing rhyme!
      - The Ballad of Prose and Rhyme [Poetry]

Not as ours the books of old--
  Things that steam can stamp and fold;
    Not as ours the books of yore--
      Rows of type, and nothing more.
      - To a Missal of the 13th Century [Books]

What ye have been ye still shall be
  When we are dust the dust among,
    O yellow flowers!
      - To Daffodils [Daffodils]


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