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Poem by Henry Austin Dobson

The Forgotten Grave

OUT from the Citys dust and roar,
You wandered through the open door;
Paused at a plaything pail and spade
Across a tiny hillock laid;
Then noted on your dexter side
Some moneyed mourners love or pride;
And so,beyond a hawthorn-tree,
Showering its rain of rosy bloom
Alike on low and lofty tomb,
You came upon itsuddenly.

How strange! The very grasses growth
Around it seemed forlorn and loath;
The very ivy seemed to turn
Askance that wreathed the neighbor urn.
The slab had sunk; the head declined,
And left the rails a wreck behind.
No name; you traced a 6,a 7,
Part of affliction and of Heaven;
And then, in letters sharp and clear,
You readO Irony austere!
Tho lost to Sight, to Memry dear. 

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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