Nor stayed he yet—his eye, his frown, his speech,
His very gesture, had a power to teach;
With outstretch’d arms, strong voice, and piercing call
He won the field and made the Dagons fall;
And thus in triumph took his glorious way,
Through scenes of horror, terror, and dismay.”
Crabbe often found his work hindered by a sort of fatalistic quietism which gave no hope to the “unconverted,” even when they sought the aid of the minister of religion. In “Abel Keene” we have the story of a merchant’s clerk who abandoned his faith, and then in days of poverty came for help:
“Said the good man, ‘and then rejoice therefore:
’Tis good to tremble: prospects then are fair,
When the lost soul is plunged in just despair.