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Ashford behold blest boast bosom breast bride call'd charms child Circassian dame dead deed delight disgrace Doctor Johnson dread Duke of Rutland e'en fair fame fate father favour fear feel fix'd fled foes follies gay bride GEORGE CRABBE give grace grave grief grieve hand happy hear heart honour hope humble infant kind labour life's live look'd looks Lord Lord Holland Lord Robert Manners marriage mind Muse numbers nymphs o'er Ovid pain PARISH PARISH REGISTER pass'd passions peace pleasure poor praise pride proud race rage Reign o'er rest Right Honourable round rustic scenes scorn shame sigh sing Sir Eustace slave smile soothe sorrows soul spirit swain tears thee thine thou thought tribe truth twas verses vex'd Village virtue weep wife woes wretched yield youth
Страница 6 - 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...
Страница 86 - Pale her parch'd lips, her heavy eyes sunk low, And tears unnoticed from their channels flow; Serene her manner, till some sudden pain Frets the meek soul, and then she's calm again;— Her broken pitcher to the pool she takes, And every step with cautious terror makes; For not alone that infant in her arms, But nearer cause, her anxious soul alarms.
Страница 9 - Where Plenty smiles - alas! she smiles for few And those who taste not, yet behold her store, Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore, The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.
Страница 25 - Such are their natures and their passions such, But these disguise too little, those too much : So shall the man of power and pleasure...
Страница 7 - Whose outward splendour is but folly's dress, Exposing most, when most it gilds distress. Here joyless roam a wild amphibious race, With sullen woe display'd in every face; Who, far from civil arts and social fly, And scowl at strangers with suspicious eye. Here too the lawless merchant of the main Draws from his plough th' intoxicated swain; Want only claim' d the labour of the day, But vice now steals his nightly rest away.
Страница 13 - 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' care; Parents, who know no children's love, dwell there!
Страница 250 - They placed me where those streamers play, Those nimble beams of brilliant light; It would the stoutest heart dismay, To see, to feel, that dreadful sight: So swift, so pure, so cold, so bright, They pierced my frame with icy wound, And, all that half-year's polar night, Those dancing streamers wrapp'd me round.
Страница 117 - Dark but not awful, dismal but yet mean, With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene ; Presents no objects tender or profound, But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around.
Страница 9 - See them beneath the dog-star's raging heat, When the knees tremble and the temples beat; Behold them, leaning on their scythes, look o'er The labour past, and toils to come explore; See them alternate suns and showers engage, And hoard up aches and anguish for their age...