The poetical works of ... George Crabbe, with his letters and journals, and his life, by his son [G. Crabbe].

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Side 88 - And breaking billows mix'd their deafening sound, They on the rolling deep securely hung, And calmly rode the restless waves among. Nor pleased it less around me to behold, Far up the beach, the yesty sea-foam roll'd; Or from the shore upborn, to see on high, Its frothy flakes in wild confusion fly : While the salt spray that clashing billows form, Gave to the taste a feeling of the storm.
Side 17 - Parish, which the elder and richer had purchased as a place of retirement for his declining age; and there tell each other their own history, and then that of their guests, neighbours, and acquaintances. The senior is much the richer, and a bachelor — having been a little distasted with the sex by the unlucky result of a very extravagant passion. He is, moreover, rather too reserved, and somewhat Toryish, though with an excellent heart and a powerful understanding. The younger is very sensible...
Side 156 - My Damon was the first to wake The gentle flame that cannot die; My Damon is the last to take The faithful bosom's softest sigh : The life between is nothing worth...
Side 285 - There is, I feel there is, a world beside ! " Martha, dear Martha ! we shall hear not then " Of hearts distress'd by good or evil men, " But all will constant, tender, faithful be...
Side 200 - I'll have my grave beneath an hill, Where, only Lucy's self shall know ; Where runs the pure pellucid rill Upon its gravelly bed below ; There violets on the borders blow, And insects their soft light display, Till, as the morning sun-beams glow, The cold phosphoric fires decay.
Side 9 - She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat, like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Side 240 - At a friend's mansion I began to dread " The cold neat parlour, and the gay glazed bed; " At home I felt a more, decided taste, " And must have all things in my order placed; " I ceased to hunt, my horses pleased me less,
Side 240 - I took my dog and gun, but saw the brute " Was disappointed that I did not shoot ; " My morning walks I now could bear to lose, " And bless'd the shower that gave me not to choose : " In fact, I felt a languor stealing on ; " The active arm, the agile hand were gone ; " Small daily actions into habits grew, " And new dislike to forms and fashions new; " I loved my trees in order to dispose, " I number'd peaches, look'd how stocks arose, " Told the same story oft — in short, began to prose.
Side 239 - Six years had passed, and forty ere the six, When Time began to play his usual tricks : The locks once comely in a virgin's sight, Locks of pure brown, displayed the encroaching white ; The blood, once fervid, now to cool began, And Time's strong pressure to subdue the man. I rode or walked as I was wont before, But now the bounding spirit was no more ; A moderate pace would now my body heat, A walk of moderate length distress my feet. I...
Side 15 - The pleasure he excites is almost always a troubled pleasure, and accompanied with tears and sighs, or with the profounder agitation of a sorrow that springs out of the conviction forced upon us of the most imperfect nature, and therefore the most imperfect happiness of man. Now, if all this were done in the mere pride of genius and power, we should look on Mr Crabbe in any other light than as the benefactor of his species. But in the midst of all his skill — all his art — we see often — indeed...

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