Proverbs in Porcelain, and Other Verses

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C. Kegan Paul, 1878 - 216 psl.
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A manuscript revision of: Proverbs in porcelain and other verses / by Austin Dobson. London : H.S. King & Co., 1877. A printed copy of the 1st ed., with holograph corrections made in preparation of the 2nd ed. Punctuation, formatting, words, lines and poems are corrected or crossed out, pages are reordered, and holograph and printed pages are tipped in before or pasted over existing text.

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169 psl. - Crown'd after trial ; sketches rude and faint, But where a passion yet unborn perhaps Lay hidden as the music of the moon Sleeps in the plain eggs of the nightingale.
53 psl. - ... his lordship's levee, He had played for her ladyship's whim, Till the poor little head was heavy, And the poor little brain would swim. And the face grew peaked and eerie, And the large eyes strange and bright, And they said — too late — " He is weary ! He shall rest for, at least, To-night...
33 psl. - And then the sky so blue! — so blue! And when I dropped my immortelle, How the birds sang! [Lifting her apron to her eyes.} This poor Ma'am'selle! M. VIEUXBOIS. You're a good girl, BABETTE, but she, — She was an Angel, verily. Sometimes I think I see her yet Stand smiling by the cabinet; And once, I know, she peeped and laughed Betwixt the curtains . . . Where's the draught?
87 psl. - WITH pipe and flute the rustic Pan Of old made music sweet for man ; And wonder hushed the warbling bird, And closer drew the calm-eyed herd, — The rolling river slowlier ran. Ah I would, — ah ! would, a little span, Some air of Arcady could fan This age of ours, too seldom stirred With pipe and flute...
147 psl. - How fast the time goes ! And a life,- — how it grows ! You were scarcely so shy When I saw you last, Rose ! In your bosom it shows There's a guest on the sly ; (How fast the time goes !) Is it Cupid ? Who knows ! Yet you used not to sigh When I saw you last, Rose ! How fast the time goes ! AUSTIN DOBSON.
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131 psl. - A SONG OF THE FOUR SEASONS. WHEN Spring comes laughing By vale and hill, By wind-flower walking And daffodil, — Sing stars of morning, Sing morning skies, Sing blue of speedwell, — And my Love's eyes. When comes the Summer, Full-leaved and strong, And gay birds gossip The orchard long, — Sing hid, sweet honey That no bee sips ; Sing red, red roses,— And my Love's lips.
71 psl. - URCEUS EXIT." I INTENDED an Ode, And it turned to a Sonnet. It began a la mode, I intended an Ode ; But Rose crossed the road In her latest new bonnet ; I intended an Ode ; And it turned to a Sonnet.
189 psl. - To Paros marble hard The beauty of thy line ; — Model thy Satyr's face For bronze of Syracuse ; In the veined agate trace The profile of thy Muse. Painter...
201 psl. - There is place and enough for the pains of prose; But whenever a scent from the whitethorn blows, And the jasmine-stars...

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