It is clear that there was a certain rusticity about Crabbe; and his politics, such as they were, had been formed in a different school from that of the county families.

A busy country town was likely to furnish interests and distractions of a different kind.

But before finally quitting the neighbourhood he visited a sister at Aldeburgh, and, his son writes, 'one day was given to a solitary ramble among the scenery of bygone years--Parham and the woods of Glemham, then in the first blossom of May.

He did not return until night; and in his note-book I find the following brief record of this mournful visit: "Yes, I behold again the place, The seat of joy, the source of pain; It brings in view the form and face That I must never see again.
The night-bird's song that sweetly floats On this soft gloom--this balmy air-- Brings to the mind her sweeter notes That I again must never hear.
Lo! yonder shines that window's light, My guide, my token, heretofore; And now again it shines as bright, When those dear eyes can shine no more.
Then hurry from this place away! It gives not now the bliss it gave; For Death has made its charm his prey, And joy is buried in her grave." In family relationships, and indeed all others, Crabbe's tenderness was never wanting, and the verse that follows was found long afterwards written on a paper in which his wife's wedding-ring, nearly worn through before she died, was wrapped: "The ring so worn, as you behold, So thin, so pale, is yet of gold: The passion such it was to prove; Worn with life's cares, love yet was love." Crabbe was inducted to the living of Trowbridge on the 3rd of June 1814, and preached his first sermon two days later.

His two sons followed him, as soon as their existing engagements allowed them to leave Leicestershire.