George Crabbe Poems
|41.||The Borough. Letter Xxiii: Prisons||4/16/2010|
|43.||The Borough. Letter Ii: The Church||4/16/2010|
|44.||The Parish Register - Part Iii: Burials||4/16/2010|
|45.||The Borough. Letter Xvii: The Hospital And||4/16/2010|
|49.||The Borough. Letter Xv: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia||4/16/2010|
|52.||Sir Eustace Grey||4/16/2010|
|53.||The Parish Register - Part Ii: Marriages||4/16/2010|
|54.||The Poor Of The Borough. Letter Xxi: Abel Keene||4/16/2010|
|56.||The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms||4/16/2010|
|57.||The Birth Of Flattery||4/16/2010|
|58.||The Hall Of Justice||4/16/2010|
|61.||The Borough. Letter I||4/16/2010|
|62.||The Village (Book 2)||1/1/2004|
|63.||A Marriage Ring||1/4/2003|
|64.||The Village: Book I||1/1/2004|
|65.||The Borough. Letter Xxii: Peter Grimes||1/1/2004|
Comments about George Crabbe
The Borough. Letter Xxii: Peter Grimes
Old Peter Grimes made fishing his employ,
His wife he cabin'd with him and his boy,
And seem'd that life laborious to enjoy:
To town came quiet Peter with his fish,
And had of all a civil word and wish.
He left his trade upon the sabbath-day,
And took young Peter in his hand to pray:
But soon the stubborn boy from care broke loose,
At first refused, then added his abuse:
His father's love he scorn'd, his power defied,
But being drunk, wept sorely when he died.
Yes! then he wept, and to his mind there came
Much of his ...
MY Damon was the first to wake
The gentle flame that cannot die;
My Damon is the last to take
The faithful bosom's softest sigh:
The life between is nothing worth,
O cast it from thy thought away!
Think of the day that gave it birth,
And this its sweet returning day.