John Bannister Tabb
John Bannister Tabb Poems
What fruit of all thy blossom shed
Remaineth unto me?
'A dream, whereon thy Fancy fed,
Shall spin anon her golden thread,
And then, of fetters free,
Arise with radiant pinions spread,
To heights of Poesy.'
A Bachelor Hen
Upon the nest she was a hen,
But higher aims induced her
To get upon the roost; and then
She found herself a rooster.