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GEORGE CRABBE
English poet and short story writer
(1754 - 1832)
 << Prev Page    Displaying page 4 of 4

In this fool's paradise, he drank delight.
      - The Borough Players (letter XII)
        [Paradise]

'Twas good advice, and meant,
  "My son, be good."
      - The Learned Boy (vol. V, tale XXI)
        [Advice]

Oh! rather give me commentators plain,
  Who with no deep researches vex the brain;
    Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,
      And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
      - The Parish Register (pt. I, introduction)
        [Authorship]

A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.
      - The Parish Register (pt. II) [Fish]

Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.
      - The Struggles of Conscience (tale 14)
        [Love]

Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
  Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
    By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?
      - The Village (bk. I) [Poetry]

Say, ye oppress'd by some fantastic woes,
  Some jarring nerve that baffles your repose;
    Who press the downy couch, while slaves advance
      With timid eye, to read the distant glance;
        Who with sad prayers the weary doctor tease,
          To name the nameless ever-new disease;
            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?
      - The Village (bk. I, l. 250-61)
        [Disease : Pain]

Life is not measured by the time we live.
      - Village (bk. II) [Life]


Displaying page 4 of 4 for this author:   << Prev  1 2 3 [4]

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