An April Pastoral.

He. Whither away, fair Neat-herdess?
She. Shepherd, I go to tend my kine.
He. Stay thou, and watch this flock of mine.
She. With thee? Nay, that were idleness.
He. Thy kine will pasture none the less.
She. Not so: they wait me and my sign.
He. I'll pipe to thee beneath the pine.
She. Thy pipe will soothe not their distress.
He. Dost thou not hear beside the spring
How the gay birds are carolling?
She. I hear them. But it may not be.
He. Farewell then, Sweetheart! Farewell now.
She. Shepherd, farewell----Where goest thou?
He. I go ... to tend thy kine for thee!

Henry Austin Dobson

Henry Austin Dobson, commonly known as Austin Dobson, was an English poet and essayist. A civil servant by profession, Dobson was one of the most renowned poets and literary critics of the late Victorian and Edwardian periods. His work is noted for its delicate craftsmanship and profound interest in 18th-century literature. Dobson's poetry often revisited and celebrated historical themes and characters, blending scholarly interest with lyrical form.

Henry Austin Dobson

The Poet's Seat. An Idyll Of The Suburbs.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

The Masque Of The Months.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

For A Copy Of Herrick.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

An Eastern Apologue.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

English

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To A Pastoral Poet.

(H. E. B.)


Among my best I put your Book,
O Poet of the breeze and brook!
(That breeze and brook which blows and falls
More soft to those in city walls)
Among my best: and keep it still
Till down the fair grass-girdled hill,
Where slopes my garden-slip, there goes
The wandering wind that wakes the rose,
And scares the cohort that explore
The broad-faced sun-flower o'er and o'er,
Or starts the restless bees that fret
The bindweed and the mignonette.

Then I shall take your Book, and dream
I lie beside some haunted stream;
And watch the crisping waves that pass,
And watch the flicker in the grass;
And wait--and wait--and wait to see
The Nymph ... that never comes to me!

Henry Austin Dobson

The Shepherd Lady.

I.

Who pipes upon the long green hill,
    Where meadow grass is deep?
The white lamb bleats but followeth on -
    Follow the clean white sheep.
The dear white lady in yon high tower,
    She hearkeneth in her sleep.

All in long grass the piper stands,
    Goodly and grave is he;
Outside the tower, at dawn of day,
    The notes of his pipe ring free.
A thought from his heart doth reach to hers:
    "Come down, O lady! to me."

She lifts her head, she dons her gown:
    Ah! the lady is fair;
She ties the girdle on her waist,
    And binds her flaxen hair,
And down she stealeth, down and down,
    Down the turret stair.

Behold him! With the flock he wons
    Along yon grassy lea.
"My shepherd lord, my shepherd lov...

Jean Ingelow

The Last Despatch.

Hurrah! the Season's past at last;
At length we've "done" our pleasure.
Dear "Pater," if you only knew
How much I've longed for home and you,--
Our own green lawn and leisure!

And then the pets! One half forgets
The dear dumb friends--in Babel.
I hope my special fish is fed;--
I long to see poor Nigra's head
Pushed at me from the stable!

I long to see the cob and "Rob,"--
Old Bevis and the Collie;
And won't we read in "Traveller's Rest"!
Home readings after all are best;--
None else seem half so "jolly!"

One misses your dear kindly store
Of fancies quaint and funny;
One misses, too, your kind bon-mot;--
The Mayfair wit I mostly know
Has more of gall than honey!

How tired one grows of "calls and balls!"
This "tou...

Henry Austin Dobson

Bagatelle

CORYDON

A PASTORAL

SCENE: A roadside in Arcady

SHEPHERD.

Good sir, have you seen pass this way
A mischief straight from market-day?
You'd know her at a glance, I think;
Her eyes are blue, her lips are pink;
She has a way of looking back
Over her shoulder, and, alack!
Who gets that look one time, good sir,
Has naught to do but follow her.


PILGRIM.

I have not seen this maid, methinks,
Though she that passed had lips like pinks.


SHEPHERD.

Or like two strawberries made one
By some sly trick of dew and sun.


PILGRIM.

A poet!


SHEPHERD.

Nay, a simple swain
That tends his flock on yonder plain,
Naught else, I swear by book and bell.
Bu...

Thomas Bailey Aldrich

The Sad Shepherd

Shepherd That crys from the first cuckoo of the year
I wished before it ceased.

Goatherd Nor bird nor beast
Could make me wish for anything this day,
Being old, but that the old alone might die,
And that would be against Gods Providence.
Let the young wish. But what has brought you here?
Never until this moment have we met
Where my goats browse on the scarce grass or leap
From stone to stone.

Shepherd. I am looking for strayed sheep;
Something has troubled me and in my trouble
I let them stray. I thought of rhyme alone,
For rhyme can beat a measure out of trouble
And make the daylight sweet once more; but when
I had driven every rhyme into its place
The sheep had gone from theirs.

Goatherd. I know right well
What turned so good a ...

William Butler Yeats

A Dialogue Between Two Shepherds

Uttered in a Pastoral Show at Wilton.

WILL.    Dick, since we cannot dance, come, let a cheerful voice
Show that we do not grudge at all when others do rejoice.

DICK.    Ah Will, though I grudge not, I count it feeble glee,
With sight made dim with daily tears another's sport to see.
Whoever lambkins saw, yet lambkins love to play,
To play when that their loved dams are stolen or gone astray?
If this in them be true, as true in men think I,
A lustless song forsooth thinks he that hath more lust to cry.

WILL.    A time there is for all, my mother often says,
When she, with skirts tucked very high, with girls at football plays
When thou hast mind to weep, seek out some smoky room:
Now let those lightsome sights we see thy darkness overcome.

DICK.    Wha...

Philip Sidney