The Works of the Rev. George Crabbe: In Eight Volumes, Volume 3

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John Murray, 1823
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Page 19 - There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, As who should say, 'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!
Page 189 - Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days. The scene is touching, and the heart is stone That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
Page 155 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Page 199 - twixt heart and heart, When the dear friends had nothing to impart : — All! all! are over; — now th' accomplish' d maid Longs for the world, of nothing there afraid : Dreams of delight invade her gentle breast, And fancied lovers rob the heart of rest ; At the paternal door a carriage stands, Love knits their hearts and Hymen joins their hands. Ah ! — world unknown ! how charming is thy view, Thy pleasures many, and each pleasure new : Ah ! — world experienced ! what of thee is told ? How...
Page 158 - Peter dropp'd his oar, Fled from his boat and sought for prey on shore; Oft up the hedge-row glided, on his back Bearing the orchard's produce in a sack, Or farm-yard load, tugg'd fiercely from the stack; And as these wrongs to greater numbers rose, The more he look'd on all men as his foes. 50 He built a mud-wall'd hovel...
Page 189 - Though mangled, hack'd, and hew'd, not yet destroy'd ; The little ones, unbutton'd, glowing hot, Playing our games, and on the very spot ; As happy as we once, to kneel and draw The chalky ring, and knuckle down at taw...
Page 188 - Tokens of bliss ! Oh ! horrible ! a wave Roars as it rises— Save me, Edward '. save ! She cries :— Alas ! the watchman on his way Calls, and lets in — truth, terror, and the day ! STROLLING PLAYERS.
Page 164 - In its hot slimy channel slowly glide; Where the small eels that left the deeper way For the warm shore, within the shallows play; Where gaping muscles, left upon the mud, Slope their slow passage to the fallen flood; — Here dull and hopeless he'd lie down and trace How sidelong crabs had scrawl'd their crooked race, Or sadly listen to the tuneless cry Of fishing gull or clanging golden-eye; What time the sea-birds to the marsh would come, And the loud bittern, from the bull-rush home, Gave from...
Page 186 - Nay, there's a charm beyond what nature shows, The bloom is softer and more sweetly glows; — Pierced by no crime, and urged by no desire For more than true and honest hearts require, They feel the calm delight, and thus proceed Through the green lane, — then linger in the mead...
Page 6 - Not warn'd by misery, not enrich' d by gain; Whom justice pitying, chides from place to place, A wandering, careless, wretched, merry race, Who cheerful looks assume, and play the parts Of happy Rovers with repining hearts ; Then cast off care, and in the mimic pain Of tragic...

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