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Arrogance is the act of the great presumption that of the little.

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
Presumption
Arrogance
Littles
Little
Great

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Experience finds few of the scenes that lively hope designs.
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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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In this wild world the fondest and the best Are the most tried, most troubled and distress'd.
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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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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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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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With awe, around these silent walks I tread These are the lasting mansions of the dead.
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Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.
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See Time has touched me gently in his race, And left no odious furrows in my face.
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Books cannot always please, however good Minds are not ever craving for their food.
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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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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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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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Life's bloomy flush was lost.
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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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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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Tis easiest dealing with the firmest mind-- More just when it resists, and, when it yields, more kind.
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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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