And, oddly enough, I have managed to track down Humbert Wolfe. He's not such an obscure poet after all.

Here is his journalist poem:
You cannot hope to bribe or twist
(thank God!) the British journalist.
But, seeing what the man will do
unbribed, there's no occasion to."

This is another nice one called The Blackbird:
His bill’s so yellow,
his coat’s so black,
that he makes a fellow
whistle back.

He also wrote a rather amusing parody of A Shropshire Lad:
When lads have done with labor
in Shropshire, one will cry
"Let's go and kill a neighbor,"
and t'other answers "Aye!"
So this one kills his cousins,
and that one kills his dad;
and, as they hang by dozens
at Ludlow, lad by lad,
each of them one-and-twenty,
all of them murderers,
the hangman mutters: "Plenty
even for Housman's verse."

For more of his history and one of the poems he wrote, see here.