The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Band 4J. Murray, 1834 |
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Abel ALBEMARLE STREET Aldborough ALPHEUS FELCH antè appear'd beauty behold BOROUGH bosom call'd child comfort Crabbe Crabbe's cried crime deed Deianira delight dread dream dull Dunciad Epistle to Timothy fair fancy fate father fear fear'd feel felt fix'd fled foes fond GEORGE CRABBE give gloom grace grew grief grieved Gwyn happy hear heart honour hope hour humble kind labour lady live look look'd Lord lover maid meads of asphodel mind misery mother Normanston nymph o'er pain pass'd passion peace Peter PETER GRIMES pity pleasure poet poor praise pride priest rest Richard III scene scorn seem'd senses fail shame sigh sigh'd silent sleep smile soul speak spirit strong sweet Sybil tale terror thee thou art thought trembling turn'd Twas vex'd widow wish'd wretched youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 241 - Yes, I am proud ; I must be proud to see Men, not afraid of God, afraid of me ; Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne, Yet touch'd and sham'd by ridicule alone.
Seite 171 - To the very moment that he bade me tell it; Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, Of moving accidents by flood and field, Of hair-breadth 'scapes i...
Seite 261 - I have heard of your paintings too, well enough ; God hath given you one face and you make yourselves another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance.
Seite 48 - I fix'd my eyes 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.
Seite 143 - The great cause of the present deplorable state of English poetry is to be attributed to that absurd and systematic depreciation of Pope, in which, for the last few years, there has been a kind of epidemical concurrence.
Seite 283 - Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth. And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! The jaws of darkness do devour it up : So quick bright things come to confusion.
Seite 84 - Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the playplace of our early days ; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.
Seite 283 - Ah me ! for aught that ever I could read, Could ever hear by tale or history, . The course of true love never did run smooth : J But, either it was different in blood ; — Lys.
Seite 6 - In the evening I sat down, and began to write, without knowing in the least what I intended to say or relate. The work grew on my hands, and I grew fond of it— add, that I was very glad to think of anything, rather than politics.
Seite 85 - That, viewing it, we seem almost to obtain Our innocent sweet simple years again. This fond attachment to the well-known place Whence first we started into life's long race, Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway, We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.