DOVER.
On Dover Pier, brisk blew the wind,
The Fates against me were combined
For when I noticed standing there,
Sweet Some-one with the sunny hair-
To start I felt not much inclined.
Too late! I cannot change my mind,
The paddles move! I am resigned-
I only know I would I were
On Dover Pier.
I wonder—will the Fates be kind?
On my return, and shall I find
That grey-eyed damsel passing fair,
So bonny, blithe, and debonair,
The pretty girl I left behind?
On Dover Pier?
J. Ashby Sterry.