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Virtues neglected then, adored become, And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb.

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
Virtues
Neglect
Slighted
Grace
Adored
Virtue
Graces
Become
Tomb
Tombs
Blossom
Neglected

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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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And took for truth the test of ridicule.
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Experience finds few of the scenes that lively hope designs.
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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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But jest apart--what virtue canst thou trace In that broad trim that hides thy sober face? Does that long-skirted drab, that over-nice And formal clothing, prove a scorn of vice? Then for thine accent--what in sound can be So void of grace as dull monotony?
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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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Life is not measured by the time we live.
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With eye upraised his master's look to scan, The joy, the solace, and the aid of man: The rich man's guardian and the poor man's friend, The only creature faithful to the end.
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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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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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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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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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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?
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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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I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms, For him that gazes or for him that farms.
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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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Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.
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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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Temp'rate in every place--abroad, at home, Thence will applause, and hence will profit come And health from either--he in time prepares For sickness, age, and their attendant cares.
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