On a warm springtime morning in early May
Did the five Bennet sisters, most happy and gay,
Depart with their mother by horse-drawn carriage
With hopes of matches and dreams of marriage.
Much birdsong and blossom were they supplied
As they sallied through Derbyshire’s countryside
To their destination, great Pemberley Estate,
Where Fitzwilliam Darcy would them await.
Yet on their arrival just Bingley was present,
Who greeted them warmly, demeanour quite pleasant;
They admired the fine gardens, the topiary bushes,
Before heading inside for sumptuous lunches.
In the drawing room after, they reclined at ease,
Exchanging some gossip while sipping their teas;
Mister Bingley’s attentions affixed on dear Jane –
The mutual affection abundantly plain.
As the day drew on and the clocks struck four
A mud-splattered figure appeared at the door;
His manner erect, his expression severe –
Yes Darcy had come, dour-faced and austere.
Begging pardon to all for arriving so late
He conveyed his grave sorrow at making them wait;
He explained that affairs had kept him too busy,
Then surprised the whole party by speaking to Lizzy.
“Miss Bennet, with you I do now wish to talk;
Would you do me the honour of taking a walk?”
At Darcy’s approach Eliza’s heart leapt,
But just nodded demurely she’d kindly accept.
There upon his arm they took leave of the rest
To stroll through the gardens while walking abreast;
His desire to converse had apparently passed
But circling the lawns left her heart beating fast.
When he finally spoke he was quite stiff and stitled,
Still she clung to his words as her guard slowly wilted;
“The weather, Miss Bennet, has turned rather wet
Shall we pass through the greenhouse to see out the threat?”
After pausing a moment she gave her assent
So into the hothouse the pair of them went,
Where humid conditions brought summer inside –
Ripe peaches and strawberries could each be espied.
The fruit on display gave them both food for thought –
It finally forced Darcy to say what he sought;
“Now Miss Bennet I know that I’ve been rather cruel
But I hope you’ll forgive me for acting a fool.”
Eliza’s pulse quickened at Darcy’s address,
She was highly surprised by his tongue’s tenderness;
His intentions seemed worthy she’d readily concede,
With the slightest of motions she bid him proceed.
Encouraged he went on with such animation
That Eliza’s breath shortened with rising elation;
“Miss Bennet” he uttered, tongue knotted and tied,
“To deny this much longer I cannot abide.”
His pressing again set her nerves all aquiver
Exciting her blood, a volcanic red river;
“Miss Bennet” near whispering, while taking her hand
“I wish us to marry, do you understand?”
“Mister Darcy!” she cried, the tide bursting at last
“Oh yes sir, oh yes!”, wildest dreams far surpassed;
This sudden denouement, so out of the blue
“Mister Darcy!” she gushed, all her wishes come true.