Ode To Mary Bennet

 

Mary, Mary, dutiful Mary

Always worried never merry.

Mary, Mary, never cared for looks

Her face always buried in books.

 

Mary, Mary never happy

Sometimes dull, sometimes snappy.

Mary, Mary, never vain

Treated beauty with disdain.

 

What is Mary idea of fun?

Know Fordyce’s sermons better than anyone

Ready to quote them to any soul

Not worried if that would make her a troll.

 

Mary, Mary, banging note after note

Without a care for a piano’s hope

Mary, Mary, never merry

Unless could be contrary.

 

Mary! Mary! Called her mum,

Stop this racket, my nerves are undone

Angry Mary kept playing

Ignoring what mother was saying

 

Why would she pay her any mind?

To her not a word was ever kind.

Jane and Lizzy, always clever.

Lydia and Kitty wrong? No, never!

 

Mary, Mary. Not a prospect in sight

Thought Mr. Collins would relieve her plight

For a husband, he would do very fine

A proposal from him would be divine.

 

Dear Mary, never had much luck.

Charlotte said yes and again she’s stuck.

Poor Mary, never run amuck,

To Jane’s pen, a sitting duck!

 

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