Verses from the 1807 Letters
Headnote
Verses enclosed in one of the letters of 1807, as Brabourne printed them in 1884: Jane’s entry in the family bouts-rimes on ’rose’, her indignant lines on the reprimand of Sir Home Popham, and the two little poems to Catherine Bigg with the pocket-handkerchiefs Jane had hemmed. Only Jane’s pieces are given: the rose rhymes by her mother, Cassandra, and Mrs. Elizabeth Austen belong to their authors, not to her.
3. Miss Jane Austen
Happy the lab’rer in his Sunday clothes!
In light-drab coat, smart waistcoat, well-darn’d hose,
And hat upon his head, to church he goes;
As oft, with conscious pride, he downward throws
A glance upon the ample cabbage rose
Which, stuck in button-hole, regales his nose,
He en vies not the gayest London beaux.
In church he takes his seat among the rows,
Pays to the place the reverence he owes,
Likes best the prayers whose meaning least he knows,
Lists to the sermon in a softening doze,
And rouses joyous at the welcome close.
On Sir Home Popham's Sentence, April 1807
Of a.Ministry pitiful, angry, mean,
A gallant commander the victim is seen.
For promptitude, vigour, success, does he stand
Condemn’d to receive a severe reprimand!
To his foes I could wish a resemblance in fate:
That they, too, may suffer themselves, soon or late,
The injustice they warrant. But vain is my spite,
They cannot so suffer who never do right.
To Miss Bigg, Previous to Her Marriage, with Some
POCKETHANDKERCHIEFS I HAD HEMMED FOR HER.
Cambrick! With grateful blessings would I pay
The pleasure given me in sweet employ.
Long may’st thou serve my friend without decay,
And have no tears to wipe but tears of joy.
The pleasure given me in sweet employ.
Long may’st thou serve my friend without decay,
And have no tears to wipe but tears of joy.
On the Same Occasion, But Not Sent
Cambrick! thou’st been to me a good,
And I would bless thee if I could.
Go, serve thy mistress with delight,
Be small in compass, soft and white;
Enjoy thy fortune, honour’d much
To bear her name and feel her touch;
And that thy wrorth may last for years,
Slight be her colds, and few her tears.
And I would bless thee if I could.
Go, serve thy mistress with delight,
Be small in compass, soft and white;
Enjoy thy fortune, honour’d much
To bear her name and feel her touch;
And that thy wrorth may last for years,
Slight be her colds, and few her tears.