Robert Southey

(1774 - 1843 / Bristol / England)

Robert Southey Poems

81. After Blenheim 4/8/2010
82. Donica - A Ballad 1/1/2004
83. The Old Man's Comforts And How He Gained Them 1/3/2003
84. High In The Air Exposed 1/3/2003
85. Winter 1/3/2003
86. Ariste 1/3/2003
87. The Widow 1/1/2004
88. The Battle Of Blenheim 1/3/2003
89. Hold Your Mad Hands 1/3/2003
90. Go, Valentine 1/3/2003
91. His Books 1/4/2003
92. God's Judgment On A Wicked Bishop 1/3/2003
93. Inchcape Rock 1/3/2003
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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