Henry Austin Dobson quotes:

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!

What ye have been ye still shall be, When we are dust the dust among, O yellow flowers!

I intended an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet.

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.

All the seasons run their race In this quiet resting-place; Peach, and apricot, and fig Here will ripen, and grow big; Here is store and overplus - More had not Alcinous!

All passes, Art alone Enduring stays to us; The Bust out-lasts the throne,-- The coin, Tiberius.

Love comes unseen; we only see it go.

Time goes, you say? Ah, no! alas, time stays, we go.

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.

Fame is a food that dead men eat, I have no stomach for such meat.

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

Old books, old wine, old Nankin blue;- All things, in short, to which belong The charm, the grace that Time makes strong, All these I prize, but (entre nous) Old friends are best!

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.

O, Love's but a dance, Where Time plays the fiddle! See the couples advance - O, Love's but a dance! A whisper, a glance, "Shall we twirl down the middle?" O, Love's but a dance, Where Time plays the fiddle!

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.