Robert Southey was expelled from Westminster School for criticising the practice of flogging in the school magazine. This incident helped to fire his youthful revolutionary ideals, which found expression a few years later in his first long poem Joan of Arc (1796). He went to Balliol College, Oxford, but failed to gain a degree; his attention was taken up by a new friend, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and his ideas about 'pantisocracy', a scheme to set up a utopian community in America. Southey and Coleridge married two sisters, Edith and Sara Fricker. Though there was some ill-feeling over the abandonment of pantisocracy, the two men remained friends.
By this time Southey had resolved ... more »
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Robert Southey Poems
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The Ship was still as she could be; Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel was steady in the ocean.
God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop
The summer and autumn had been so wet, That in winter the corn was growing yet, 'Twas a piteous sight to see all around The grain lie rotting on the ground.
The Battle of Blenheim
It was a summer evening; Old Kaspar’s work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun;
MY days among the Dead are past; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old:
Go, Valentine, and tell that lovely maid Whom fancy still will portray to my sight, How here I linger in this sullen shade, This dreary gloom of dull monastic night;
Let ancient stories round the painter's art, Who stole from many a maid his Venus' charms, Till warm devotion fired each gazer's heart And every bosom bounded with alarms.
A wrinkled crabbed man they picture thee, Old Winter, with a rugged beard as grey As the long moss upon the apple-tree; Blue-lipt, an icedrop at thy sharp blue nose,
Hold your mad hands
Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? For ever must your Niger's tainted flood, Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain?
My Days among the Dead are Past
My days among the Dead are past; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old;
Botany Bay Eclogues 03 - Humphrey And Wi...
(Time, Noon.) HUMPHREY:
The Soldier's Wife
Weary way-wanderer languid and sick at heart Travelling painfully over the rugged road, Wild-visag'd Wanderer! ah for thy heavy chance!
Botany Bay Eclogues 02 - Elinor
(Time, Morning. Scene, the Shore.) Once more to daily toil--once more to wear The weeds of infamy--from every joy
The Old Man's Comforts and how he gained...
You are old, Father William, the young man cried, The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man, Now tell me the reason I pray.
Porlock! thy verdant vale so fair to sight, Thy lofty hills which fern and furze imbrown, The waters that roll musically down Thy woody glens, the traveller with delight
Comments about Robert Southey
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The Ship was still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.
Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
The Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.
When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell,
The Mariners heard the ...