Sydney Thompson Dobell

(1824-1874 / England)

Sydney Thompson Dobell Poems

81. The Milkmaid's Song 4/12/2010
82. Song Of A Mad Girl, Whose Lover Has Died At Sea 4/12/2010
83. On Reading A Dictacted Letter 4/12/2010
84. Home In War-Time 1/1/2004
85. The Mother's Lesson 4/12/2010
86. The Common Grave 4/12/2010
87. A Chanted Calendar 1/1/2004
88. Love And Beauty: Iii: To A Fair Woman, Unsatisfied With Woman's Work 4/12/2010
89. Farewell 4/12/2010
90. Dedicatory 4/12/2010
91. A Health To The Queen 4/12/2010
92. A Shower In War-Time 4/12/2010
93. Crazed 4/12/2010
94. To 1862 4/12/2010
95. Lord Robert 4/12/2010
96. Deprecating A Gift 4/12/2010
97. A Musing On A Victory 4/12/2010
98. Daft Jean 4/12/2010
99. Mentana 4/12/2010
100. An Evening Dream 4/12/2010
101. Love: To A Little Girl 4/12/2010
102. Austrian Alliance 4/12/2010
103. She Touches A Sad String Of Soft Recall 4/12/2010
104. A Nupial Eve (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
105. A Hero's Grave 4/12/2010
106. Dead-Maid's-Pool 4/12/2010
107. Ballad 4/12/2010
108. At The Grave Of A Spanish Friend 4/12/2010
109. Bayonet Song 4/12/2010
110. Czar Nicholas 4/12/2010
111. Afloat And Ashore 4/12/2010
112. Alone 4/12/2010
113. Cavalry Charge At Balaclava 4/12/2010
114. A Statesman 4/12/2010
115. Tommy's Dead 1/1/2004
116. Childless 4/12/2010
117. An Autumn Mood 4/12/2010
118. America 1/1/2004
119. Dante, Shakespeare, Milton - From 1/1/2004

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Best Poem of Sydney Thompson Dobell

Tommy's Dead

YOU may give over plough, boys,
You may take the gear to the stead,
All the sweat o' your brow, boys,
Will never get beer and bread.
The seed's waste, I know, boys,
There's not a blade will grow, boys,
'Tis cropped out, I trow, boys,
And Tommy's dead.

Send the colt to fair, boys,
He's going blind, as I said,
My old eyes can't bear, boys,
To see him in the shed;
The cow's dry and spare, boys,
She's neither here nor there, boys,
I doubt she's badly bread;
Stop the mill to-morn, boys,
There'll be no more corn, boys,
Neither ...

Read the full of Tommy's Dead

How’s My Boy?

“HO, Sailor of the sea!
How’s my boy—my boy?”
“What’s your boy’s name, good wife,
And in what good ship sail'd he?”
“My boy John— He that went to sea—
What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.
“You come back from sea,
And not know my John?

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