Austin Dobson
Austin Dobson
Austin Dobsonwas a racing driver from England. He was the brother of Arthur Charles Dobson, who was also a racing driver...
art bust enduring outlasts stays throne
All passes. Art alone/ Enduring stays to us;/ The bust outlasts the throne
eye men artist
He is a Patron who looks down, / With careless eyes on men who drown; / But if they chance to reach the land, / Encumbers them with helping hand
art coins lasts
All passes, Art alone Enduring stays to us; The Bust out-lasts the throne,-- The coin, Tiberius.
blessing deathly delight hour last night paid seal slumber thou thy till utmost
Look thy last on all things lovely, Every hour - let no night Seal thy sense in deathly slumber Till to delight Thou hast paid thy utmost blessing
intended turned
I intended an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet.
books ours rows stamp steam
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.
dust shall yellow
What ye have been ye still shall be, When we are dust the dust among, O yellow flowers!
For I respectfully declineTo dignify the Serpentine,And make hors-d'oeuvres for fishes.
decline
For I respectfully decline To dignify the Serpentine, And make hors-d'oeuvres for fishes.
colour ladies painted red stays white
The ladies of St James's! They're painted to the eyes, Their white it stays for ever, Their red it never dies: But Phyllida, my Phyllida! Her colour comes and goes; It trembles to a lily, It wavers to a rose.
men monstrous pairs prudence ranks science wings
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.
random rose
And I wove the thing to a random rhyme, For the Rose is Beauty, the Gardener, Time.
body carry climb earth eye kings throw
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!
beauty eye white
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.