Robert Southey

(1774 - 1843 / Bristol / England)

Robert Southey Poems

81. The Widow 1/1/2004
82. To A Goose 1/3/2003
83. To Contemplation 1/1/2004
84. To Horror 1/1/2004
85. To Mary Wollstonecraft 1/1/2004
86. To My Own Minature Picture Taken At Two Years Of Age 1/1/2004
87. To The Chapel Bell 1/1/2004
88. To The Genius Of Africa 1/1/2004
89. Wat Tyler - Act I 4/8/2010
90. Wat Tyler - Act Ii 4/8/2010
91. Wat Tyler - Act Iii 4/8/2010
92. Winter 1/3/2003
93. Written On Sunday Morning 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Robert Southey

Inchcape Rock

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 ...

Read the full of Inchcape Rock


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,
Close muffled up, and on thy dreary way
Plodding alone through sleet and drifting snows.
They should have drawn thee by the high-heapt hearth,
Old Winter! seated in thy great armed chair,
Watching the children at their Christmas mirth;

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