An old favourite

For some reason Marjory Fleming (1803-1811) came to mind tonight, the Scottish girl whose journals reveal a very intelligent child's take on the world she knew and an adult world she half understood, as well as a poet undaunted by the difficulties of the genre. A few samples:

Sonnet [to a pet monkey?]

O lovely O most charming pug
Thy gracefull air & heavenly mug
The beauties of his mind do shine
And every bit is shaped so fine
Your very tail is most devine
Your teeth is whiter than the snow
You are a great buck and a bow
Your eyes are of so fine a shape
More like a christains then an ape
His cheeks is like the roses blume
Your hair is like the ravens plume
His noses cast is of the roman
He is a very pretty weomen
I could not get a rhyme for roman
And was oblidged to call it weoman

I am now going to tell you about the horible and wretched plaege that my multiplication gives me you cant concieve it - the most Devilis thing is 8 times 8 & 7 times 7 it is what nature itselfe cant endure.

The balmy brease comes down from heaven
And makes us like for to be liveing
But when we think that if we died
No pleaure there would be denied
There happiness doth always reign
And there we feel not a bit pain
In the morning the first thing I see
is most beautiful trees spreading their
luxuriant branches between the Horizon & me

I love in Isas bed to lie
O such a joy & luxury
The bottom of the bed I sleep
And with great care I myself keep
Oft I embrace her feet of lillys
But she has goton all the pillies
Her neck I never can embrace
But I do hug her feet in place
But I am sure I am contented
And of my follies am repented
I am sure I'd rather be
In a smal bed at liberty