In Praise Of Mary Bennet. Poem by Kevin Hulme

In Hertfordshire County or so we have read, there lives a large family of which it is said, reside within Longbourn the home of that name and a singular Mother with a singular aim. That's to marry five daughters to save future strife, for man of large fortune is in need of a wife. As poor Mr Bennet, through no fault of his own, had fathered no heirs, so misfortune was sown. Now i've seen all five girls and I've made up my mind, there's only one Bennet who has no equal you'll find. The eldest is Jane and this i'll impart, her beauty's unmatched and so noble in heart. Elizabeth has wit, intelligence but then, from a recent event she so quick to condemn. Lydia is headstrong her will she'll assert, a behaviour that's frivolous and a bit of a flirt. Her partner it's said, when ever any mischief is bred, and two of the silliest girls in the country, does long for romance, in every Tunic and dance, so what hope do we have for young Kitty. But let it be known that it's Mary who shines, still waters are deceptive and deep, a literary disposition and more accomplished by far, its to her my affections entreat. For its to Mary would all my attentions and full wishes so rest, this thought I enclose, where ever in prose, is there a spirit more suitably blessed.