Here you will find thePoemDiscontent And Quarrellingof poet Charles Lamb
JANE. Miss Lydia every day is drest Better than I am in my best White cambric-muslin frock. I wish I had one made of clear Worked lawn, or leno very dear.- And then my heart is broke Almost to think how cheap my doll Was bought, when hers cost-yes, cost full A pound, it did, my brother; Nor has she had it weeks quite five, Yet, 'tis as true as I'm alive, She's soon to have another. ROBERT. O mother, hear my sister Jane, How foolishly she does complain, And tease herself for nought. But 'tis the way of all her sex, Thus foolishly themselves to vex. Envy's a female fault. JANE. O brother Robert, say not so; It is not very long ago, Ah! brother, you've forgot, When speaking of a boy you knew, Remember how you said that you Envied his happy lot. ROBERT. Let's see, what were the words I spoke? Why, may be I was half in joke- May be I just might say- Besides that was not half so bad; For, Jane, I only said he had More time than I to play. JANE. O may be, may be, very well: And may be, brother, I don't tell Tales to mamma like you. MOTHER. O cease your wrangling, cease, my dears; You would not wake a mother's fears Thus, if you better knew.
