The poetical works of ... George Crabbe, with his letters and journals, and his life, by his son [G. Crabbe].

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Stran 35 - ... 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.
Stran 47 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.
Stran 47 - It was from out the rind of one apple tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil, as two twins cleaving together, leaped forth into the world. And perhaps this is that doom which Adam fell into of knowing good and evil, that is to say, of knowing good by evil.
Stran 42 - 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.
Stran 47 - He that can apprehend and consider vice with all her baits and seeming pleasures, and yet abstain, and yet distinguish, and yet prefer that which is truly better, he is the true warfaring Christian.
Stran 37 - Knowledge is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it.
Stran 86 - passing rich with forty pounds a year?" Ah! no, a Shepherd of a different stock, And far unlike him, feeds this little flock; A jovial youth, who thinks his Sunday's task, As much as God or Man can fairly ask; The rest he gives to loves and labours light, To Fields the morning and to Feasts the night; None better...
Stran 77 - 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 mingled tints the rocky coasts abound, And a...
Stran 217 - 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...
Stran 74 - On Mincio's banks, in Caesar's bounteous reign, If Tityrus found the Golden Age again, Must sleepy bards the flattering dream prolong, Mechanic echoes of the Mantuan song? From Truth and Nature shall we widely stray, Where Virgil, not where Fancy, leads the way? Yes, thus the Muses sing of happy swains, Because the Muses never knew their pains: They boast their peasants...

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