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

George Crabbe: Poems, Volume 3 (of 3)

Chapter 71: LINES, ADDRESSED TO THE DOWAGER DUCHESS OF RUTLAND.
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.

LINES, ADDRESSED TO THE DOWAGER DUCHESS OF RUTLAND.

When she—I will not tell her name—
Was in her early beauty laid,
Reposing—Time in person came.
And looked delighted at the maid.
Such charms, unmov’d, he could not pass,
They were to him unusual things,
He gazed till he had dropp’d his glass,
And, sighing, closed his mighty wings.
“Awake!” in tender tone he cried,
“Nor be of my stern look afraid; 10 
For never yet has Time espied
Three graces in one form display’d.”
The nymph awoke; and, when she saw
Old Time was falling fast in love,
She thought she might advantage draw
From one who friend or foe must prove.—
“And dost thou love me, Time,” she cried,
“With passion ardent, temper true?”
“Let me,” he cried, “by test be tried,
And tell to Time what he shall do!” 20 
“Old Time,” said she, “thy hand is hard,
And thou on beauty lov’st to prey:
Do, prithee, Time show some regard,
And touch me gently in thy way!”
“Then smile upon me, lady, so—
That look again, oh! where are such!
I must not pass thee as I go,
But I will softly, gently touch.
“So gently by thee will I steal
That none the steps of Time shall see; 30 
This withering scythe thou shalt not feel,
Nor injured by its stroke shalt be.—
“But still I must my prowess prove,
Be not displeased—indeed I must;
Or men will say that Time, in love,
Is blinded, partial, and unjust.—
“Yet fear not thou: that form, that face
Shall still from me forbearance find;
But all the love of Time shall trace,
And see his progress in thy mind.” 40