Quote

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.

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
Soldier
Foe
Arms
Deeds
Spoil
Friends
Son
Deed
Read
Destruction
Sons
Peace
Praise
Toil
Might
Soldiers
Would
Save
Traffic
Duly
Honor
Soil
Defenders
Protect

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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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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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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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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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Virtues neglected then, adored become, And graces slighted, blossom on the tomb.
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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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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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To the house of a friend if you're pleased to retire, You must all things admit, you must all things admire You must pay with observance the price of your treat, You must eat what is praised, and must praise what you eat.
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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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With awe, around these silent walks I tread These are the lasting mansions of the dead.
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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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Life is not measured by the time we live.
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Life's bloomy flush was lost.
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We cannot heal the throbbing heart till we discern the wounds within.
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A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook.
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The coward never on himself relies, But to an equal for assistance flies.
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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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Shall he who soars, inspired by loftier views, Life's little cares and little pains refuse? Shall he not rather feel a double share Of mortal woe, when doubly arm'd to bear?
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Better to love amiss than nothing to have loved.
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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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