The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe with his letters and journals, and his life, by his son. In eight volumes |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe |  |
James talk'd of pity in a softer tone,
To Rachel speaking, and with her alone:
He knew full well, he said, to what must come
His wretched brother, what would be his doom:
Thus he her bosom fenced with dread about;
But love he could not with his skill drive out.
Still he affected something,—and that skill
Made the love wretched, though it could not kill;
And Robert fail'd, though much he tried, to prove
He had no guilt—She granted he had love.
To Rachel speaking, and with her alone:
He knew full well, he said, to what must come
His wretched brother, what would be his doom:
Thus he her bosom fenced with dread about;
But love he could not with his skill drive out.
Still he affected something,—and that skill
Made the love wretched, though it could not kill;
And Robert fail'd, though much he tried, to prove
He had no guilt—She granted he had love.
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe | |