The Life and Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe
J. Murray, 1847 - 587 pages
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appear attend beauty believe brother cause character child cold comfort Crabbe cried dear death delight doubt dread duty early ease face fair fate father fear feel felt fond force gain gave give grace grief hand happy hear heard heart honour hope hour humble kind knew lady leave letter light live look Lord lost maid manners means meet mind mother nature never night once pain pass passions peace pleased pleasure poor praise pride reason received respect rest scene seen sigh smile soon sought soul speak spirit strong sure tell thee things thou thought told took tried true truth virtue weak wife wish young youth
Page 103 - I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth; and, being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book. Who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's image; but he who destroys" a good book kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye.
Page 103 - For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are; nay they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them.
Page 115 - Where the thin harvest waves its wither'd ears ; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye : There Thistles stretch their prickly arms afar, And to the ragged infant threaten war; There Poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil, There the blue Bugloss paints the sterile soil ; Hardy and high, above the slender sheaf, The slimy Mallow waves her silky leaf; O'er the young shoot the Charlock throws a shade, And clasping Tares cling round the sickly blade ; With...
Page 105 - And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way; and God repented of the evil that he had said that he would do unto them; and he did it not.
Page 183 - God loves from whole to parts: but human soul Must rise from individual to the whole. Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake, As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake; The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds, Another still, and still another spreads; Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace; His country next; and next all human race...
Page 240 - I waked one morning in the beginning of last June from a dream, of which all I could recover was, that I had thought myself in an ancient castle (a very natural dream for a head filled like mine with Gothic story) and that on the uppermost bannister of a great staircase I saw a gigantic hand in armour.
Page 151 - I feel his absence in the hours of prayer, And view his seat and sigh for Isaac there ; I see no more those white locks thinly spread Round the bald polish of that...
Page 246 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Page 117 - The lame, the blind, and, far the happiest they! The moping idiot and the madman gay. Here too the sick their final doom receive, Here brought, amid the scenes of grief, to grieve, Where the loud groans from some sad chamber flow, Mix'd with the clamours of the crowd below...
Page 130 - Cataracts of declamation thunder here ; There forests of no meaning spread the page, In which all comprehension wanders lost ; While fields of pleasantry amuse us there With merry descants on a nation's woes. The rest appears a wilderness of strange But gay confusion ; roses for the cheeks, And lilies for the brows of faded age, Teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald...