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Updated: June 28, 2025
Scott and Southey were valued friends, but, as has been truly said, he thought little of Scott's poetry, and less of Southey's. Of Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience he said, "There is something in the madness of this man which interests me more than the sanity of Lord Byron and Walter Scott."
The not very refined monosyllable in the text may, however, be tolerated as having a technical relation to the fiddle-strings by hypothesis. This patrician Bawdrons is not forgotten in Southey's verse; thus Our good old cat, Earl Tomlemagne, Is sometimes seen to play, Even like a kitten at its sport, Upon a warm spring-day.
~Death of Sir John Moore.~ From Mr. Southey's History of the Peninsular War, a work of sterling merit. Marshal Soult's intention was to force the right of the British, and thus to interpose between Corunna and the army, and cut it off from the place of embarkation. Failing in this attempt, he was now endeavouring to outflank it.
Even more unpleasant is the description of Sextus Pompeius's consultation of the witch Erichtho; horror upon horror is piled up until the blood curdles at the sickening details, which even Southey's Thalaba does not approach and, after all, the feeling produced is not horror but disgust. It is pleasant to turn from his irreligion to his philosophy.
His recognition as a poet has been hearty enough to give him a feeling of success, for he showed me various tokens of the estimation in which he is held, for instance, a presentation copy of Southey's works, in which the latter had written "Amicus amico, poeta poetae."
But he retired Into the thickest grove; there yielding way To his o'erburthen'd nature, from all eyes Apart, he cast himself upon the ground, And threw his arms around the dog, and cried While tears stream'd down. Thou Theron, thou hast known Thy poor lost master... Theron, only thou!" Southey's "Roderick, last of the Goths."
'Southey wrote thirty years later: 'I find daily more and more reason to wonder at the miserable ignorance of English historians, and to grieve with a sort of despondency at seeing how much that has been laid up among the stores of knowledge has been neglected and utterly forgotten. Southey's Life, ii. 264. Ib. p. 318
One of Sir Walter's, or Mr. Southey's, or Mr. Milman's or Mr. Disraeli's? or shall I sprawl a Byron?" "I really cannot sanction such unprincipled conduct. You may make me one of Sir Walter's, however." "Poor Washington!" said Vivian, writing. "I knew him well. Be always slept at dinner. One day, as he was dining at: Mr.
This was an old man with an odd crookedness of legs, and strange, disjointed limp. S had told him that we were Americans, and he took the idea that we had come this long distance, over sea and land, with the sole purpose of seeing Southey's residence, so that he was inclined to do what he could towards exhibiting it.
"Just fancy seeing you here, and at this hour!" He was glad of the interruption; but his pleasure was dashed by the fear that she would ask him to come home with her. "Oh, I have had such a pleasant party; So-and-so sang at Lady Southey's. Oh, I have enjoyed myself! I knew I should find you here; but I am interrupting. I will go." She put her arm round his neck.
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