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George Crabbe: Poems, Volume 3 (of 3) cover

George Crabbe: Poems, Volume 3 (of 3)

Chapter 45: [FROM BELVOIR CASTLE.]
By George Crabbe
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British LiteraturePoetry

About This Book

The volume gathers later narrative and miscellaneous poems, presenting a sequence of Tales of the Hall followed by posthumous pieces and shorter lyrics. An editor’s preface and textual notes outline manuscript sources and variant readings. The poems offer realistic portraits of rural and domestic life, closely observed scenes, and moral reflection on passions such as pride, grief, revenge, and belated refinement, delivered through narrative sketches and reflective commentary. Tone alternates between anecdotal storytelling, satirical observation, and sober moralizing.

[FROM BELVOIR CASTLE.]

[About 1782–3.]
Oh! had I but a little hut
That I might hide my head in;
Where never guest might dare molest,
Unwelcome or unbidden.
I’d take the jokes of other folks
And mine should then succeed ’em;
Nor would I chide a little pride,
Or heed a little freedom.

THE LADIES OF THE LAKE.

[Normanston, 1785.]
Shall I, who oft have woo’d the Muse
For gentle Ladies’ sake,
So fair a theme as this refuse—
The Ladies of the Lake?
Hail, happy pair! ’tis yours to share
Life’s elegance and ease:
The bliss of wealth without the care,
The will and power to please—
To please, but not alone our eyes,
Nor yet alone our mind; 10 
Your taste, your goodness, charm the wise—
Your manners all mankind.
The pleasant scenes that round you glow,
Like caskets fraught with gold,
Though beauteous in themselves, yet owe
Their worth to what they hold.
Trees may be found, and lakes, as fair;
Fresh lawns, and gardens green;
But where again the Sister-pair
Who animate the scene? 20 
Where sense of that superior kind,
Without man’s haughty air?
And where, without the trifling mind,
The softness of the fair?
Folly, with wealth, may idly raise
Her hopes to shine like you,
And humble flattery sound her praise,
Till she believes it true;
But wealth no more can give that grace
To souls of meaner kind, 30 
Than summer’s fiery sun can chase
Their darkness from the blind.
But drop, you’ll say, the useless pen!
Reluctant, I obey;
Yet let me take it once again,
If not to praise, to pray:
That you, with partial grace, may deign
This poor attempt to take,
And I may oft behold again
The Ladies of the Lake. 40