The Borough

by George Crabbe

He at her feet craved mercy, nor in vain,

For the relenting dove flew back again.

There’s something rapturous in distress, or oh!

Could Clementina bear her lot of woe?

Or what she underwent could maiden undergoe?

The day was fix’d; for so the lover sigh’d,

So knelt and craved, he couldn’t be denied;

When, tale most dreadful! every hope adieu, -

For the fond lover is the brother too:

All other griefs abate; this monstrous grief