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I’d like something special for me:
I suffer from ennui at home.
My mother knows just what I mean,
Yet Father will not let us roam.

Jane is quite lovely, but quiet,
And Lizzie’s too clever by half:
Kitty’s weak and Mary’s so prim . . .
I’m the youngest, and I like a laugh.

But it means that I can’t wed for years,
At least not within the old “rules”:
Must I wait till the others are gone?
And whoever would marry those fools?

I am glad the Militia’s in town!
Now we can all go to the ball,
And stand up with the young men in red:
So dashing, so handsome, so tall . . .

George Wickham is one of the best,
But he’s trying to catch Lizzie’s eye!
Perhaps I can interest him, though . . .
I’ll give it a jolly good try!