There were two little girls, neither handsome nor plain; <br />One's name was Eliza, the other's was Jane: <br />They were both of one height, as I've heard people say, <br />They were both of one age, I believe, to a day. <br /> <br />'Twas fancied by some, who but slightly had seen them, <br />That scarcely a difference was there between them; <br />But no one for long in this notion persisted, <br />So great a distinction there really existed. <br /> <br />Eliza knew well that she could not be pleasing, <br />While fretting and fuming, while sulky or teasing; <br />And therefore in company artfully tried <br />Not to break her bad habits, but only to hide. <br /> <br />So when she was out, with much labour and pain, <br />She contrived to look almost a pleasant as Jane; <br />But then you might see, that in forcing a smile, <br />Her mouth was uneasy, and ached all the while. <br /> <br />And in spite of her care, it would sometimes befall, <br />That some cross event happen'd to ruin it all; <br />And because it might chance that her share was the worst, <br />Her temper broke loose, and her dimples dispersed. <br /> <br />But Jane, who had nothing she wanted to hide, <br />And therefore these troublesome arts never tried, <br />Had none of the care and fatigue of concealing, <br />But her face always show'd what her bosom was feeling. <br /> <br />At home or abroad there was peace in her smile, <br />A cheerful good nature that needed no guile. <br />And Eliza work'd hard, but could never obtain <br />The affection that freely was given to Jane.<br /><br />Ann Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jane-and-eliza/
