The Works of the Rev. George Crabbe: In Five Volumes. Vol. I. [-V.].

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John Murray, 1823 - English poetry

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Page 205 - 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 339 - 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 383 - 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 few thy pleasures, and those few how old...
Page 5 - With ceaseless motion comes and goes the tide, Flowing, it fills the channel vast and wide; Then back to sea, with strong majestic sweep It rolls, in ebb yet terrible and deep: Here samphire-banks and salt-wort bound the flood, There stakes and sea-weeds withering on the mud ; And higher up, a ridge of all things base, Which some strong tide has roll'd upon the place.
Page 11 - But nearer land, you may the billows trace, As if contending in their watery chase ; May watch the mightiest till the shoal they reach, Then break and hurry to their utmost stretch : Curl'd as they come, they strike with furious force, And then re-flowing, take their grating course, Raking the rounded flints, which ages past Roll'd by their rage, and shall to ages last.
Page 77 - Be brave then ; for your captain is brave, and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny ; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops ; and I will make it felony to drink small beer.
Page 142 - When all is calm at sea, all still at land; And there the ocean's produce to explore, As floating by, or rolling on the shore ; Those living jellies which the flesh inflame, Fierce as a nettle, and from that its name ; Some in huge masses, some that you may bring In the small compass of a lady's ring; Figured by hand divine — there's not a gem Wrought by man's art to be compared to them; Soft, brilliant, tender, through the wave they glow, And make the moonbeam brighter where they flow.
Page 370 - He seems the Place for that sad Act to see, And dreams the very Thirst which then will be : A Priest attends — it seems the one he knew In his best days, beneath whose care he grew.
Page 387 - Books cannot always please, however good ; Minds are not ever craving for their food ; But sleep will soon the weary soul prepare For cares to-morrow that were this day's care : For forms, for feasts, that sundry times have past, And formal feasts that will for ever last.
Page 353 - On the mid stream and saw the spirits rise ; " I saw my father on the water stand, " And hold a thin pale boy in either hand ; " And there they glided ghastly on the top " Of the salt flood, and never touch'da drop : " I would have struck them, but they knew th' intent, " And smiled upon the oar, and down they went.

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