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Poem by Henry Austin Dobson


More Poets Yet!


'More Poets yet!'-I hear him say,
Arming his heavy hand to slay;-
'Despite my skill and 'swashing blow,'
They seem to sprout where'er I go;-
I killed a host but yesterday!'

Slash on, O Hercules! You may.
Your task's, at best, a Hydra-fray;
And though you cut, not less will grow
More Poets yet!

Too arrogant! For who shall stay
The first blind motions of the May?
Who shall out-blot the morning glow?-
Or stem the full heart's overflow?
Who? There will rise, till Time decay,
More Poets yet! 



Henry Austin Dobson


Henry Austin Dobson's other poems:
  1. On a Nankin Plate
  2. The Passionate Printer to His Love
  3. For a Copy of Theocritus
  4. On the Future of Poetry
  5. Incognita


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