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 |  |
“Why this?” he said, for Rachel pour'd her tears
Profuse, that spoke involuntary fears:
“Sleep, that so early thou for us may'st wake,
“And we our comforts in return may take;
“Sleep, and farewell!” he said, and took his way,
And the sad wife in neither could obey;
She slept not nor well fared, but restless dwelt
On her past life, and past afflictions felt:
The man she loved, the brother and the foe
Of him she married!—It had wrought her woe;
Not that she loved, but pitied, and that now
Was, so she fear'd, infringement of her vow:
James too was civil, though she must confess
That his was not her kind of happiness;
That he would shoot the man who shot a hare
Was what her timid conscience could not bear;
But still she loved him—wonder'd where he stray'd
In this loud night! and if he were afraid.
Profuse, that spoke involuntary fears:
“Sleep, that so early thou for us may'st wake,
“And we our comforts in return may take;
“Sleep, and farewell!” he said, and took his way,
And the sad wife in neither could obey;
She slept not nor well fared, but restless dwelt
On her past life, and past afflictions felt:
The man she loved, the brother and the foe
Of him she married!—It had wrought her woe;
Not that she loved, but pitied, and that now
Was, so she fear'd, infringement of her vow:
James too was civil, though she must confess
That his was not her kind of happiness;
That he would shoot the man who shot a hare
Was what her timid conscience could not bear;
But still she loved him—wonder'd where he stray'd
In this loud night! and if he were afraid.
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Crabbe | |