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Life's bloomy flush was lost.

George Crabbe

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George Crabbe
Age: 79 †
Born: 1754
Born: December 24
Died: 1834
Died: February 3
Entomologist
Medicine
Poet
Surgeon
Writer
Aldeburgh
Suffolk
Flush
Lost
Life

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In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distress'd.
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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.
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Hence, in these times, untouch'd the pages lie, And slumber out their immortality.
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Arrogance is the act of the great presumption that of the little.
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Dreams are like portraits and we find they please because they are confessed resemblances.
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Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain, like other farmers, flourish and complain.
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And took for truth the test of ridicule.
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Men of many words sometimes argue for the sake of talking men of ready tongues frequently dispute for the sake of victory men in public life often debate for the sake of opposing the ruling party, or from any other motive than the love of truth.
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Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare, And shed their substance on the floating air.
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Whatever amuses, serves to kill time, to lull the faculties, and to banish reflection. Whatever entertains, usually awakens the understanding or gratifies the fancy. Whatever diverts, is lively in its nature, and sometimes tumultuous in its effects.
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I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms, For him that gazes or for him that farms.
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Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd, And ease of heart her every look convey'd.
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Deceivers are the most dangerous members of society. They trifle with the best affections of our nature, and violate the most sacred obligations.
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Beauties, when disposed to sleep, Should from the eye of keen inspector keep: The lovely nymph who would her swain surprise, May close her mouth, but not conceal her eyes Sleep from the fairest face some beauty takes, And all the homely features homelier makes.
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Old Peter Grimes made fishing his employ His wife he cabined with him and his boy, And seemed that life laborious to enjoy.
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The gentle fair on nervous tea relies, Whilst gay good-nature sparkles in her eyes An inoffensive scandal fluttering round, Too rough to tickle, and too light to wound.
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The coward never on himself relies, But to an equal for assistance flies.
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With awe, around these silent walks I tread These are the lasting mansions of the dead.
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Lawyers Are: By law's dark by-ways he has stored his mind with wicked knowledge on how to cheat mankind.
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