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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Robert Southey 1774-1843 John Bartlett

    “You are old, Father William,” the young man cried,
  ”The few locks which are left you are gray;
You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,—
  Now tell me the reason I pray.”
          The Old Man’s Comforts, and how he gained them.
    The march of intellect. 1
          Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society. Vol. ii. p. 360. The Doctor, Chap. Extraordinary.
    The laws are with us, and God on our side.
          On the Rise and Progress of Popular Disaffection (1817). Essay viii. Vol. ii. p. 107.
    Agreed to differ.
          Life of Wesley.
    My days among the dead are passed;
  Around me I behold,
Where’er these casual eyes are cast,
  The mighty minds of old;
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.
          Occasional Pieces. xviii.
      How does the water
Come down at Lodore?
          The Cataract of Lodore.
      So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
    Through moss and through brake.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
    A sight to delight in.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
    And so never ending, but always descending.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
    And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
          The Cataract of Lodore.
    From his brimstone bed, at break of day,
  A-walking the Devil is gone,
To look at his little snug farm of the World,
  And see how his stock went on.
          The Devil’s Walk. Stanza 1.
    He passed a cottage with a double coach-house,—
  A cottage of gentility;
    And he owned with a grin,
    That his favourite sin
  Is pride that apes humility. 2
          The Devil’s Walk. Stanza 8.
    Where Washington hath left
  His awful memory
  A light for after times!
          Ode written during the War with America, 1814.
        How beautiful is night!
  A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
No mist obscures; nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
  Breaks the serene of heaven:
  In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine
  Rolls through the dark blue depths;
    Beneath her steady ray
    The desert circle spreads
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.
    How beautiful is night!
          Thalaba. Book i. Stanza 1.
    “But what good came of it at last?”
Quoth little Peterkin.
“Why, that I cannot tell,” said he;
“But ’t was a famous victory.”
          The Battle of Blenheim.
    Blue, darkly, deeply, beautifully blue. 3
          Madoc in Wales. Part i. 5.
    What will not woman, gentle woman dare,
When strong affection stirs her spirit up?
          Madoc in Wales. Part ii. 2.
        And last of all an Admiral came,
  A terrible man with a terrible name,—
A name which you all know by sight very well,
But which no one can speak, and no one can spell.
          The March to Moscow. Stanza 8.
    They sin who tell us love can die;
With life all other passions fly,
  All others are but vanity.
     .     .     .     .     .
    Love is indestructible,
  Its holy flame forever burneth;
From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
     .     .     .     .     .
  It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of love is there.
          The Curse of Kehama. Canto x. Stanza 10.
    Oh, when a mother meets on high
  The babe she lost in infancy,
Hath she not then for pains and fears,
  The day of woe, the watchful night,
  For all her sorrow, all her tears,
  An over-payment of delight?
          The Curse of Kehama. Canto x. Stanza 11.
    Thou hast been called, O sleep! the friend of woe;
But ’t is the happy that have called thee so.
          The Curse of Kehama. Canto xv. Stanza 11.
    The Satanic school.
          Vision of Judgment. Original Preface.
Note 1.
See Burke, Quotation 19. [back]
Note 2.
See Coleridge, Quotation 38. [back]
Note 3.
”Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,”
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.
Lord Byron: Don Juan, canto iv. stanza 110. [back]