.
He was born in Aldeburgh
, Suffolk, the son of a tax collector, and developed his love of poetry as a child. In 1768, he was apprenticed to a local doctor, who taught him little, and in 1771 he changed masters and moved to Woodbridge. There he met his future wife, Sarah Elmy, who accepted his proposal and had the faith and patience not only to wait for Crabbe but to encourage his verse writing.
Where Plenty smiles - alas! she smiles for few,And those who taste not, yet behold her store,Are as the slaves that dig the golden ore,The wealth around them makes them doubly poor.
The murmuring poor, who will not fast in peace.
A master passion is the love of news.
Our farmers round, well pleased with constant gain,Like other farmers, flourish and complain.
Oh, rather give me commentators plain,Who with no deep researches vex the brain;Who from the dark and doubtful love to run,And hold their glimmering tapers to the sun.
Her air, her manners, all who saw admir'd;Courteous though coy, and gentle though retir'd;The joy of youth and health her eyes display'd,And ease of heart her every look convey'd.
Habit with him was all the test of truth,It must be right: I’ve done it from my youth.
In this fool's paradise he drank delight.
Books cannot always please, however good;Minds are not ever craving for their food.
In idle wishes fools supinely stay;Be there a will, and wisdom finds a way.