BERICHTIGUNGEN.

S. 60, v. 106: libral] 7. lib'ral.

S. 65, v. 30: conferr'd] 7. conferred.

S. 70, Titel des ersten Gedichts: Slepness] 7. Sleepless.
S. 185, Titel des zweiten Gedichts: Ullysses] 1. Ulysses.

UNIV
CALIR

GEORGE CRABBE

(1754-1832).

Aus: THE PARISH REGISTER.

(Veröff. 1807.)

Aus Part I (Baptisms).

Next, with their boy, a decent couple came,
And call'd him Robert, 'twas his father's name;
Three girls preceded, all by time endear'd,

And future births were neither hoped nor fear'd:
Blest in each other, but to no excess;
Health, quiet, comfort, form'd their happiness;
Love all made up of torture and delight,
Was but mere madness in this couple's sight:
Susan could think, though not without a sigh,
If she were gone, who should her place supply;
And Robert, half in earnest, half in jest,
Talk of her spouse when he should be at rest:
Yet strange would either think it to be told,
Their love was cooling or their hearts were cold.
Few were their acres,-but, with these content,
They were, each pay-day, ready with their rent:
And few their wishes-what their farm denied,
The neighbouring town, at trifling cost, supplied.
If at the draper's window Susan cast
A longing look, as with her goods she pass'd,
And, with the produce of the wheel and churn,
Bought her a Sunday-robe on her return;
True to her maxim, she would take no rest,
Till care repaid that portion to the chest:
Or if, when loitering at the Whitsun-fair,
Her Robert spent some idle shillings there;
Up at the barn, before the break of day,
He made his labour for th' indulgence pay:
Thus both-that waste itself might work in vain-
Wrought double tides, and all was well again.

Yet, though so prudent, there were times of joy,
(The day they wed, the christening of the boy,)
When to the wealthier farmers there was shown
Welcome unfeign'd, and plenty like their own;
For Susan served the great, and had some pride
Among our topmost people to preside:

Brie, Englisches Lesebuch.

1

Yet in that plenty, in that welcome free,
There was the guiding nice frugality,
That, in the festal as the frugal day,
Has, in a different mode, a sovereign sway;
As tides the same attractive influence know,
In the least ebb and in their proudest flow;
The wise frugality, that does not give

A life to saving, but that saves to live;
Sparing, not pinching, mindful though not mean,
O'er all presiding, yet in nothing seen.

Aus Part II (Marriages).

Two summers since, I saw, at Lammas Fair,
The sweetest flower that ever blossom'd there,
When Phoebe Dawson gaily cross'd the Green,
In haste to see and happy to be seen:

Her air, her manners, all who saw admired;
Courteous though coy, and gentle though retired:
The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd,
And ease of heart her every look convey'd;
A native skill her simple robes express'd,
As with untutor'd elegance she dress'd;
The lads around admired so fair a sight,
And Phoebe felt, and felt she gave, delight.
Admirers soon of every age she gain'd,

Her beauty won them and her worth retain'd;
Envy itself could no contempt display,

They wish'd her well, whom yet they wish'd away.
Correct in thought, she judged a servant's place
Preserved a rustic beauty from disgrace;

But yet on Sunday-eve, in freedom's hour,
With secret joy she felt that beauty's power,

When some proud bliss upon the heart would steal
That, poor or rich, a beauty still must feel.

At length, the youth, ordain'd to move her breast,
Before the swains with bolder spirit press'd;
With looks less timid made his passion known,
And pleased by manners most unlike her own;
Loud though in love, and confident though young;
Fierce in his air, and voluble of tongue;

By trade a tailor, though, in scorn of trade,

He served the 'Squire, and brush'd the coat he made.
Yet now, would Phoebe her consent afford,

Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board;

With her should years of growing love be spent,

And growing wealth:-she sigh'd and look'd consent. Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the green, (Seen by but few, and blushing to be seen—

Dejected, thoughtful, anxious, and afraid,)

Led by the lover, walk'd the silent maid:

Slow through the meadows roved they, many a mile
Toy'd by each bank, and trifled at each stile;