Robert Southey

It runs through the reeds,Hurry-skurry.

— Robert Southey

Rising and leaping,Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.

— Robert Southey

And so never ending, but always descending,And this way the water comes down at Lodore.

— Robert Southey

Order is the sanity of the mind, the health of the body, the peace of the city, the security of the state. Like beams in a house or bones to a body, so is order to all things.

— Robert Southey

If you would be pungent, be brief ; for it is with words as with sunbeams—the more they are condensed, the deeper they burn.

— Robert Southey

Cold is thy heart and as frozen as Charity!

— Robert Southey

You are old, Father William." the young man cried,Now tell me the reason, I pray.

— Robert Southey

In my days of youth, I remembered my God,And he hath not forgotten my age.

— Robert Southey

How beautiful is night!How beautiful is night!

— Robert Southey

And then they knew the perilous Rock,And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

— Robert Southey

Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,“Oh Christ! It is the Inchcape Rock!”

— Robert Southey

Every body is a critic.

— Robert Southey

What will not woman, gentle woman dare,When strong affection stirs her spirit up?

— Robert Southey

And last of all an Admiral came,But which no one can speak, and no one can spell.

— Robert Southey

Where Washington hath leftA light for after times!

— Robert Southey

The laws are with us, and God on our side.

— Robert Southey

My days among the Dead are past;With whom I converse day by day.

— Robert Southey

No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.

— Robert Southey

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,That will not perish in the dust.

— Robert Southey

Agreed to differ.

— Robert Southey

The Satanic school.

— Robert Southey

The arts babblative and scribblative.

— Robert Southey

The march of intellect.

— Robert Southey

Literature cannot be the business of a woman's life, and it ought not to be.

— Robert Southey

Write poetry for its own sake — not in a spirit of emulation, and not with a view to celebrity; the less you aim at that the more likely you will be to deserve and finally to obtain it.

— Robert Southey

And then she went to the porridge of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot nor too cold, but just right.

— Robert Southey

Somebody has been sitting in my chair!

— Robert Southey

Wild dreams! but suchWhen Christ shall come, and all things be fulfill'd.

— Robert Southey

It was a summer evening,His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

— Robert Southey

He came to ask what he had found,That was so large, and smooth, and round.

— Robert Southey

'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he,"Who fell in the great victory.

— Robert Southey

But what they fought each other forI could not well make out.

— Robert Southey

And everybody praised the Duke"But 'twas a famous victory.

— Robert Southey

From his brimstone bed, at break of day,And see how his stock went on.

— Robert Southey

How, then, was the Devil dressed?And there was a hole where his tail came through.

— Robert Southey

He passed a cottage with a double coach-house,Is pride that apes humility.

— Robert Southey

Thou hast confessions to listen,And small ones for those who pay less.

— Robert Southey

At this good news, so greatThe hole where his tail came through.

— Robert Southey

Great news! bloody news!" cried a newsman;"The bloodier the better for me.

— Robert Southey

Curses are like young chickens, they always come home to roost.

— Robert Southey

They sin who tell us love can die;But the harvest-time of love is there.

— Robert Southey

Oh, when a mother meets on highAn over-payment of delight?

— Robert Southey

Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe;But ’tis the happy that have called thee so.

— Robert Southey

How does the waterCome down at Lodore?

— Robert Southey

So I told them in rhyme,For of rhymes I had store.

— Robert Southey

From its fountainsIn its own little lake.

— Robert Southey