The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Том 7

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J. Murray, 1834
 

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Стр. 70 - When now the young are rear'd, and when the old, Lost to the tie, grow negligent and cold — Far to the left he saw the huts of men, Half hid in mist, that hung upon the fen ; Before him swallows, gathering for the sea, Took their short flights, and...
Стр. 69 - Be mine ? " and joy o'er all her features ran ; "I will !" she softly whisper'd ; but the roar Of cannon would not strike his spirit more ; Ev'n as his lips the lawless contract seal'd He felt that conscience lost her sevenfold shield, And honour fled ; but still he spoke of love, And all was joy in the consenting dove. That evening all in fond discourse was spent, When the sad lover to his chamber went, To think on what had...
Стр. 70 - Lives but t' entreat, implore, resent, accuse ; Jealous and tender, conscious of defects, She merits little, and yet much expects ; She looks for love that now she cannot see, And sighs for joy that never more can be ; On his retirements her complaints intrude, And fond reproof endears his solitude : While he...
Стр. 34 - And thought so happy, was condemned to dwell ; The gay, the grateful wife, whom I was glad To see in dress beyond our station clad, And to behold among our neighbours fine, More than perhaps became a wife of mine ; And now among her neighbours to explore, And see her poorest of the very poor...
Стр. 69 - That evening all in fond discourse was spent, When the sad lover to his chamber went, To think on what had past, to grieve and to repent : Early he rose, and look'd with many a sigh On the red light that fill'd the eastern sky ; Oft had he stood before, alert and gay, To hail the glories of the new-born day : But now dejected, languid, listless, low, He saw the wind upon the water blow, And the cold stream curl'd onward as the gale From the...
Стр. 121 - Asleep, all was misery and degradation, not my own only, but of those who had been. — That horrible image of servility and baseness — that mercenary and commercial manner ! It is the work of imagination, I suppose ; but it is very strange.
Стр. 271 - And there was something fearful in the sight, And in the sound of what appear'd to-night ; For now, of night and nervous terror bred, Arose a strong and superstitious dread; She heard strange noises, and the shapes she saw Of fancied beings bound her soul in awe. The moon was risen, and she sometimes shone Through thick white clouds, that flew tumultuous on, Passing beneath her with an eagle's speed, That her soft light imprison'd and then freed ; The fitful glimmering through the hedge-row green...
Стр. 43 - It is a lovely place, and at the side Rises a mountain-rock in rugged pride ; And in that rock are shapes of shells, and forms Of creatures in old worlds, of nameless worms, Whose generations lived and died ere man, A worm of other class, to crawl began.

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