George Crabbe

(24 December 1754 - 3 February 1832 / Aldeburgh, Suffulk)

George Crabbe Poems

1. Tale Xix 4/16/2010
2. The Borough. Letter Xiv: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Life Of Blaney 4/16/2010
3. Inebriety 4/16/2010
4. The Poor Of The Borough. Letter Xx: Ellen Orford 4/16/2010
5. Woman! 4/16/2010
6. Tale Vii 4/16/2010
7. Tale Ii 4/16/2010
8. Tale V 4/16/2010
9. The Borough. Letter Vii: Professions--Physic 4/16/2010
10. The Borough. Letter X: Clubs And Social Meetings 4/16/2010
11. Reflections 4/16/2010
12. Tale Xii 4/16/2010
13. The Mother's Funeral 4/16/2010
14. The Borough. Letter Iv: Sects And Professions In Religion 4/16/2010
15. Tale Xviii 4/16/2010
16. Tale Xx 4/16/2010
17. Tale Ix 4/16/2010
18. Tale Iv 4/16/2010
19. Tale X 4/16/2010
20. Tale Xi 4/16/2010
21. The Borough. Letter Xii: Players 4/16/2010
22. The Borough. Letter Xviii: The Poor And Their 4/16/2010
23. The Borough. Letter V: The Election 4/16/2010
24. Tale Viii 4/16/2010
25. Tale Iii 4/16/2010
26. The Borough. Letter Xxiv: Schools 4/16/2010
27. Tale Xv 4/16/2010
28. Tale Xvi 4/16/2010
29. Tale Xxi 4/16/2010
30. An English Peasant 4/16/2010
31. The Borough. Letter Ix: Amusements 4/16/2010
32. The Borough. Letter Xi: Inns 4/16/2010
33. The Borough. Letter Xiii: The Alms-House And Trustees 4/16/2010
34. The Borough. Letter Xix: The Parish-Clerk 4/16/2010
35. The Borough. Letter Viii: Trades 4/16/2010
36. The Borough. Letter Vi: Professions--Law 4/16/2010
37. The Borough. Letter Iii: The Vicar--The Curate 4/16/2010
38. The Borough. Letter Xvi: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Benlow 4/16/2010
39. The Library 4/16/2010
40. The Borough. Letter Xxiii: Prisons 4/16/2010
Best Poem of George Crabbe

The Village: Book I

The Village Life, and every care that reigns
O'er youthful peasants and declining swains;
What labour yields, and what, that labour past,
Age, in its hour of languor, finds at last;
What form the real picture of the poor,
Demand a song--the Muse can give no more.

Fled are those times, when, in harmonious strains,
The rustic poet praised his native plains:
No shepherds now, in smooth alternate verse,
Their country's beauty or their nymphs' rehearse;
Yet still for these we frame the tender strain,
Still in our lays fond ...

Read the full of The Village: Book I

Late Wisdom

WE'VE trod the maze of error round,
   Long wandering in the winding glade;
And now the torch of truth is found,
   It only shows us where we strayed:
By long experience taught, we know--
   Can rightly judge of friends and foes;
Can all the worth of these allow,
   And all the faults discern in those.

[Hata Bildir]