JANE. <br />Mamma is displeased and looks very grave, <br />And I own, brother, I was to blame <br />Just now when I told her I wanted to have, <br />Like Miss Lydia, a very fine name. <br />'Twas foolish, for, Robert, Jane sounds very well, <br />When mamma says, 'I love my good Jane.' <br />I've been lately so naughty, I hardly can tell <br />If she ever will say so again. <br /> <br /> <br />ROBERT. <br />We are each of us foolish, and each of us young, <br />And often in fault and to blame. <br />Jane, yesterday I was too free with my tongue, <br />I acknowledge it now to my shame. <br />For a speech in my good mother's hearing I made, <br />Which reflected upon her whole sex; <br />And now like you, Jenny, I am much afraid <br />That this might my dear mother vex. <br /> <br /> <br />JANE. <br />But yet, brother Robert, 'twas not quite so bad <br />As that naughty reflection of mine, <br />When I grumbled because Liddy Bellenger had <br />Dolls and dresses expensive and fine. <br />For then 'twas of her, her own self, I complained; <br />Since mamma does provide all I have. <br /> <br /> <br />MOTHER. <br />Your repentance, my children, I see is unfeigned, <br />You are now my good Robert, and now my good Jane; <br />And if you will never be naughty again, <br />Your fond mother will never look grave.<br /><br />Charles Lamb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/repentance-and-reconciliation/
