The Poetical Works of George Crabbe: With LifeThomas Holmes, 1899 - 496 sider |
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Side 15
... feel a double share Of mortal woe , when doubly arm'd to bear ? " Hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind On ... feels his consolation in his mind . And , lock'd within his bosom , pears about A mental charm for every care without ...
... feel a double share Of mortal woe , when doubly arm'd to bear ? " Hard is his fate who builds his peace of mind On ... feels his consolation in his mind . And , lock'd within his bosom , pears about A mental charm for every care without ...
Side 23
... feels not , or with zeal To combat fears that e'en the pious feel ? Now once again the gloomy scene explore , Less gloomy now ; the bitter hour is o'er , The man of many sorrows sighs no more.- Up yonder hill , behold how sadly slow The ...
... feels not , or with zeal To combat fears that e'en the pious feel ? Now once again the gloomy scene explore , Less gloomy now ; the bitter hour is o'er , The man of many sorrows sighs no more.- Up yonder hill , behold how sadly slow The ...
Side 26
... feel or fear resign'd ; Who gave up joys and hopes to you unknown , For pains and dangers greater than your own : If such there be , then let your murmurs cease , Think , think of him , and take your lot in peace . And such there was ...
... feel or fear resign'd ; Who gave up joys and hopes to you unknown , For pains and dangers greater than your own : If such there be , then let your murmurs cease , Think , think of him , and take your lot in peace . And such there was ...
Side 30
... feel her sting , combine , Till serious vengeance pays an idle line : For party - poets are like wasps , who dart Death to themselves , and to their foes but smart . Hard then our fate : if general themes we choose , Neglect awaits the ...
... feel her sting , combine , Till serious vengeance pays an idle line : For party - poets are like wasps , who dart Death to themselves , and to their foes but smart . Hard then our fate : if general themes we choose , Neglect awaits the ...
Side 36
... feels , Whose acres melt before her glowing wheels . To these a thousand idle themes succeed , Deeds of all kinds , and comments to each deed . Here stocks , the state ... feel . Nor end they here : next day he reads his 86 CRABBE'S POEMS .
... feels , Whose acres melt before her glowing wheels . To these a thousand idle themes succeed , Deeds of all kinds , and comments to each deed . Here stocks , the state ... feel . Nor end they here : next day he reads his 86 CRABBE'S POEMS .
Innhold
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
appear'd Arminian art thou beauty behold bless'd bosom breast call'd Calvinistic charms comfort Conscience cried crime dare deed delight disdain dread ease fair fame fancy fate father favourite fear fear'd feel felt fix'd fled foes folly fond friendly pair Fulham gain'd gave gentle GEORGE CRABBE give grace grave grief grieved happy hear heart honour hope hour humble John Dighton kind knew labour lady Lady saw live look look'd maid marriage mind Muse never numbers nymph o'er OVID pain pass'd passions peace pity pleased pleasure poison'd poor praise pride priest proud rapture rest round scenes scorn seem'd shame sigh slave smile soothe sorrow soul speak spirit spleen strong tears terror thee thine thou thought trembling truth Twas vex'd vile virtue wealth wife wretch youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 175 - There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond...
Side 236 - ... and, in the sultry day, Through the tall bounding Mud-banks made their way, Which on each side rose swelling, and below The dark warm Flood ran silently and slow ; There anchoring, Peter chose from Man to hide, There hang his Head, and view the lazy Tide 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...
Side 58 - Lo ! now with red rent cloak and bonnet black, And torn green gown loose hanging at her back, One who an infant in her arms sustains, And seems in patience striving with her pains...
Side 21 - And, skill'd at whist, devotes the night to play: Then, while such honours bloom around his head, Shall he sit sadly by the sick man's bed, To raise the hope he feels not, or with zeal To combat fears that e'en the pious feel? Now once again the gloomy scene explore, Less gloomy now; the bitter hour is o'er, The man of many sorrows sighs no more...
Side 246 - 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 Stray o'er the heath in all its purple bloom, And pluck the blossom where the wild bees hum ; Then through the broomy bound with ease they pass, And press the sandy sheep-walk's slender grass, Where dwarfish flowers among the gorse are spread, And the lamb browses by the linnet's bed...
Side 137 - And yet they'll buy a patent, and succeed ; Will dare to promise dying sufferers aid, — For who, when dead, can threaten or upbraid ? With cruel avarice still they recommend More draughts, more syrup, to the journey's end : 'I feel it not ;' — 'Then take it every hour.' — 'It makes me worse ;' — 'Why, then it shows its power.' 'I fear to die ;' — 'Let not your spirits sink, 'You're always safe, while you believe and drink.
Side 206 - That giant-building, that high-bounding wall, Those bare-worn walks, that lofty thund'ring hall ! That large loud clock, which tolls each dreaded hour, Those gates and locks, and all those signs of power : It is a prison, with a milder name, Which few inhabit without dread or shame.
Side 20 - Who with mock patience dire complaints endure, Which real pain, and that alone, can cure; How would ye bear in real pain to lie, Despised, neglected, left alone to die ? How would ye bear to draw your latest breath Where all that's wretched paves the way for death...
Side 74 - twas not their vulgar pride, Who, in their base contempt, the great deride ; Nor pride in learning...
Side 20 - ... happiest they! The moping idiot and the madman gay. Here too the sick their final doom receive, Here brought, amid the scenes of grief, to grieve, Where the loud groans from some sad chamber flow...