All the seasons run their race In this quiet resting-place Peach, and apricot, and fig Here will ripen, and grow big Here is store and overplus - More had not Alcinous.
More Quotes from Henry Austin Dobson:
Time goes, you say? Ah, no! alas, time stays, we go.Henry Austin Dobson
Tis an old dial with many a stain In summer crowned with drifting orchard bloom, Tricked in the autumn with the yellow rain, And white in winter like a marble tomb. And round about its gray, timeeaten brow Lean letters speak a worn and shattered row I am a Shade A Shadowe too arte thou I marke the Time saye, Gossip, dost thou soe.
Henry Austin Dobson
Alas, time stays, we go.
Henry Austin Dobson
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