On Box Hills green and wooded-land,
A picnic forms the day,
Where friends now gather upon repast,
All out from Highbury way.
Now ‘Balls’ and ‘Music’ are the grounds,
For making a ‘Match’ her joy,
But Miss Emma Woodhouse being Clever and Rich,
Where here must her Talents employ?
For all to soon, Silence and Gloom,
Inflict every Soul seated by,
The Elton’s do frown, Poor Harriet’s cast down,
For the Congenial Well is dry.
‘I ask of you all some entertainment’, Said Frank Churchill who’s voice breaks the Lull.
‘Tell us one or two things very clever, or One thing being exceedingly Dull’.
‘All Dull things at once I will utter’, Said Dear Miss Bates with a sigh,
‘Three only I’m afraid is your limit’, Came Emma’s quick caustic reply.
Now Miss Bates being poor and a Maiden,
For her Roses blush through Herrick’s Rhyme,
Was shocked and dismayed by the comment,
From a friend who was both generous and kind.
‘Emma; How could you be so unfeeling’
George Knightley later begun,
‘To be cruel to a friend of long standing, I say it was so badly done’.
Later distraught and despondent, and left with her feelings to own,
Miss Woodhouse wrapped in a cloud of Contrition,
Did Weep through the long journey Home.