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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme? Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread, By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?

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
Shed
Myrtle
Feel
Soothe
Feels
Poets
Winding
Ruins
Pine
Round
Barren
Rounds
Flattery
Bread
Rhyme
Poet
Ruin
Poetry

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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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Virtues neglected then, adored become, And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb.
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Learning is better worth than houses or land.
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Anger makes us strong, Blind and impatient, And it leads us wrong The strength is quickly lost We feel the error long.
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Soldiers in arms! Defenders of our soil! Who from destruction save us who from spoil Protect the sons of peace, who traffic or who toil Would I could duly praise you, that each deed Your foe's might honor, and your friends might read.
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Life is not measured by the time we live.
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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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Life's bloomy flush was lost.
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Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.
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Experience finds few of the scenes that lively hope designs.
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An infatuated man is not only foolish, but wild.
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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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Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.
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Blest be the gracious Power, who taught mankind To stamp a lasting image of the mind! Beasts may convey, and tuneful birds may sing, Their mutual feelings, in the opening spring But Man alone has skill and power to send The heart's warm dictates to the distant friend 'Tis his alone to please, instruct, advise Ages remote, and nations yet to rise.
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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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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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To show the world what long experience gains, requires not courage, though it calls for pains but at life's outset to inform mankind is a bold effort of a valiant mind.
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Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain, like other farmers, flourish and complain.
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We cannot heal the throbbing heart till we discern the wounds within.
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Circles in water as they wider flow The less conspicuous in their progress grow, And when at last they trench upon the shore, Distinction ceases and they're view'd no more.
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