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

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George Crabbe
1840

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Página 116 - He that has light within his own clear breast, May sit i' th' centre, and enjoy bright day : But he that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon.
Página 95 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Página 219 - A credulous father, and a brother noble, Whose nature is so far from doing harms, That he suspects none, on whose foolish honesty My practices ride easy ! — I see the business.
Página 161 - He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity...
Página 95 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all 'Guilty! guilty!
Página 197 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Página 19 - I had a thing to say, — But let it go : The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world...
Página 26 - Nor wears a rosy blush, nor sheds perfume ; The few dull flowers that o'er the place are spread Partake the nature of their fenny bed; Here on its wiry stem, in rigid bloom, Grows the salt lavender that lacks perfume ; Here the dwarf sallows creep, the septfoil harsh, And the soft slimy mallow of the marsh ; Lmv on the ear the distant billows sound, And just in view appears their stony bound...
Página 22 - ... around, And what is seen is all on fairy ground ; Again they sicken, and on every view Cast their own dull and melancholy hue ; Or, if absorb'd by their peculiar cares, The vacant eye on viewless matter glares, Our feelings still upon our views attend, And their own natures to the objects lend ; Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure., Long as the passion reigns th...
Página ix - But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd, Than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, Grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness.

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