It runs through the reeds, And away it proceeds, Through me… - Robert Southey

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It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry.

Robert Southey

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About Robert Southey

Robert Southey (August 12 1774 – March 21 1843) was an English poet of the Romantic school, one of the so-called Lake Poets, and Poet Laureate.

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Walter Scott John Dryden William Cowper Oliver Goldsmith Alexander Pope

Additional quotes by Robert Southey

Wild dreams! but such
As Plato lov'd; such as with holy zeal
Our Milton worshipp'd. Blessed hopes! awhile
From man with-held, even to the latter days
When Christ shall come, and all things be fulfill'd.

From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.

The arts babblative and scribblative.

It runs through the reeds, And away it proceeds, Through meadow and glade, In sun and in shade, And through the wood-shelter, Among crags in its flur… - Robert Southey

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