TIBBYBA MIBLIC

PREFACE

TO THE FIRST EDITION OF 1897

THIS Volume comprises all the verses written by me during the last thirty years which in my opinion seem worthy of preservation. Even with these it is possible that I have occasionally been more indulgent to a personal memory than attentive to a critical instinct. But I am fully conscious of the limitations of the result attained, and the motto on my title-page is sincere. Let me here complete it:

"mihi parva locuto

Sufficit in vestras sæpe redire manus."

AUSTIN DOBSON

MEM AORK

To you I sing, whom towns immure,
And bonds of toil hold fast and sure ;—
To you across whose aching sight
Come woodlands bathed in April light
And dreams of pastime premature.

And you, O Sad, who still endure
Some wound that only Time can cure,——
To you, in watches of the night,—
To you I sing!

But most to you with eyelids pure,
Scarce witting yet of love or lure;—
To you, with bird-like glances bright,
Half-paused to speak, half-poised in flight ;~
O English Girl, divine, demure,

TO YOU I sing!

NEW YOR!
MBLIC

"le ne puis tenir registre de ma vie par mes actions; fortune les met trop bas: ie le tiens par mes fantasies."

-MONTAIGNE.

Too low my lot for lofty deed:
I pipe but fancies on a reed.