Henry Austin Dobson

(18 January 1840 – 2 September 1921 / Plymouth)

Henry Austin Dobson Poems

41. Before Sedan 4/14/2010
42. In After Days 1/4/2003
43. Knickerbocker 4/14/2010
44. Ars Victrix 4/14/2010
45. My Little Boy That Died 4/14/2010
46. More Poets Yet! 4/14/2010
47. A Song Of The Four Seasons 4/14/2010
48. Ballad Of The Armada 4/14/2010
49. A Garden Song 1/4/2003
50. A Kiss 4/14/2010
51. Urceus Exit 1/4/2003
52. Fame Is A Food That Dead Men Eat 4/14/2010
53. Incognita 3/16/2003

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Best Poem of Henry Austin Dobson


Just for a space I met her –
Just for a day in the train!
It began when she feared it would wet her,
That tiniest spurtle of rain:
So we tucked a great rug in the sashes,
And carefully padded the pane;
And I sorrow in sackcloth and ashes,
Longing to do it again!

Then it grew when she begged me to reach her
A dressing-case under the seat;
She was “really so tiny a creature,
That she needed a stool for her feet.! ”
Which was promptly arranged to her order
With a care that was even minute,
And a glimpse – of an open- worked ...

Read the full of Incognita

You Bid Me Try

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
My easy Muse. They did, till you - You bid me try!

That makes them eight. The port's in sight -

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