Beauties of ... George Crabbe, with a biographical sketch

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Strona 79 - Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, And the dull wheel hums doleful through the day ;— There children dwell who know no parents' care; Parents, who know no children's love, dwell there! Heart-broken matrons on their joyless bed, Forsaken wives, and mothers never wed ; Dejected widows with unheeded tears, And crippled age with more than childhood fears; The lame, the blind, and, far the happiest they ! The moping idiot, and the madman...
Strona 83 - Up yonder hill, behold how sadly slow The bier moves winding from the vale below: There lie the happy dead, from trouble free, And the glad parish pays the frugal fee: No more, O Death!
Strona 4 - This BOOKS can do ; — nor this alone ; they give New views to life, and teach us how to live ; They soothe the grieved, the stubborn they chastise, Fools they admonish, and confirm the wise : Their aid they yield to all ; they never shun The man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone ; Unlike the hard, the selfish, and the proud, They fly not sullen from the suppliant crowd ; Nor tell to various people various things, But show to subjects what they show to kings.
Strona 115 - But when amid such pleasing scenes I trace The poor laborious natives of the place, And see the mid-day sun, with fervid ray, On their bare heads and dewy temples play; While some, with feebler heads and fainter hearts, Deplore their fortune, yet sustain their parts: Then shall I dare these real ills to hide In tinsel trappings of poetic pride...
Strona 81 - Such is that room which one rude beam divides, And naked rafters form the sloping sides; Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are seen, And lath and mud are all that lie between; Save one dull pane, that, coarsely patched, gives way To the rude tempest, yet excludes the day: Here on a matted flock, with dust o'erspread.
Strona 35 - The looks of pity in the trav'ller's face : Within, the father, who, from fences nigh, Had brought the fuel for the fire's supply, Watch'd now the feeble blaze, and stood dejected by : On ragged rug, just borrow'd from the bed, And by the hand of coarse indulgence fed, In dirty patchwork negligently dress'd, Reclined the wife, an infant at her breast ; In her wild face some touch of grace remain'd Of vigour palsied, and of beauty stain'd ; Her bloodshot eyes on her unheeding mate Were wrathful turn'd,...
Strona 115 - Where other cares than those the Muse relates, And other shepherds dwell with other mates: By such examples taught, I paint the Cot, As Truth will paint it, and as Bards will not...
Strona 79 - Theirs is yon House that holds the parish poor, Whose walls of mud scarce bear the broken door; There, where the putrid vapours, flagging, play, And the dull wheel hums doleful through the day;— There children dwell who know no parents...
Strona 113 - THE Village Life, and every care that reigns O'er youthful peasants and declining swains; What labour yields, and what, that labour past, Age, in its hour of languor, finds at last; What form the real picture of the poor, Demand a song — the Muse can give no more. I Fled are those times when, in harmonious strains, (The rustic poet praised his native plains. No shepherds now, in smooth alternate verse, Their country's beauty or their nymphs...
Strona 36 - Useless, despised, his worthless labours done, And half protected by the vicious Son, Who half supports him; he with heavy glance Views the young ruffians who around him dance; And, by the sadness...

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