Quote

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.

Robert Southey

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Robert Southey
Age: 68 †
Born: 1774
Born: August 12
Died: 1843
Died: March 21
Biographer
Historian
Poet
Politician
Translator
Writer
Bristol
Gloucestershire
Robert Southey
World
Walking
Went
Brimstone
Break
Snug
Gone
Farm
Littles
Farms
Look
Stock
Little
Bed
Looks
Devil

More quotes by Robert Southey

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No distance of place or lapse of time can lessen the friendship of those who are thoroughly persuaded of each other's worth.
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If you would be pungent, be brief.
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Ye who dwell at home, Ye do not know the terrors of the main.
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Cold is thy hopeless heart, even as charity.
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Three things a wise man will not trust, The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith.
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Live as long as you may, the first twenty years are the longest half of your life.
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Few people give themselves time to be friends.
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Earth could not hold us both, nor can one heaven Contain my deadliest enemy and me.
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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.
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There was a time when I believed in the persuadability of man, and had the mania of man-mending. Experience has taught me better. The ablest physician can do little in the great lazar-house of society. He acts the wisest part who retires from the contagion.
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For a young and presumptuous poet a disposition to write satires is one of the most dangerous he can encourage. It tempts him to personalities, which are not always forgiven after he has repented and become ashamed of them.
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In the days of my youth I remembered my God! And He hath not forgotten my age.
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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.
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Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
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I can remember, with unsteady feet, Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasure In flowers, and toys, and sweetmeats, things which long Have lost their power to please which when I see them, Raise only now a melancholy wish I were the little trifler once again, Who could be pleas'd so lightly.
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What will not woman, gentle woman dare when strong affection stirs her spirit up?
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All deception in the course of life is indeed nothing else but a lie reduced to practice, and falsehood passing from words into things.
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There is a magic in that little world, home it is a mystic circle that surrounds comforts and virtues never know beyond its hallowed limits.
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A wise judge, by the craft of the law, was never seduced from its purpose.
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Kitten is in the animal world what the rosebud is in the garden the one the most beautiful of all young creatures, the other the loveliest of all opening flowers.
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