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Robert Southey
Quote #15
The arts babblative and scribblative.
More from Robert Southey
The Satanic school.
The march of intellect.
Agreed to differ.
And then she went to the porridge of the Little, Small, Wee Bear, and tasted that; and that was neither too hot nor too cold, but just righ…
Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust.
Somebody has been sitting in my chair!
My days among the Dead are past; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never-failing friends…
It was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green…
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