Jane Austen

(16 December 1775 – 18 July 1817 / Hampshire, England)

Ode To Pity - Poem by Jane Austen


Ever musing I delight to tread
The Paths of honour and the Myrtle Grove
Whilst the pale Moon her beams doth shed
On disappointed Love.
While Philomel on airy hawthorn Bush
Sings sweet and Melancholy, And the thrush
Converses with the Dove.


Gently brawling down the turnpike road,
Sweetly noisy falls the Silent Stream--
The Moon emerges from behind a Cloud
And darts upon the Myrtle Grove her beam.
Ah! then what Lovely Scenes appear,
The hut, the Cot, the Grot, and Chapel queer,
And eke the Abbey too a mouldering heap,
Cnceal'd by aged pines her head doth rear
And quite invisible doth take a peep.

Comments about Ode To Pity by Jane Austen

  • Susan Williams (6/18/2016 4:12:00 PM)

    She was a superb artist- -she drew a sketch here that could be hanging in an art studio somewhere. (Report) Reply

    12 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • (6/18/2016 6:42:00 AM)

    A great poem coming from the bottom of heart and with touching sentiments interwoven by the poetess. Thanks for sharing it here. (Report) Reply

  • Edward Kofi Louis (6/18/2016 1:58:00 AM)

    The paths of honour with the peace of the mind. Nice work. (Report) Reply

  • (4/22/2009 3:39:00 PM)

    This Poem is a poem that should be taught in every high school it gives such saddness! (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: moon, ode

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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