Hers fancy quick, and clear good sense,
And wit which never gave offence;
A heart as warm as ever beat, A temper even; calm & sweet.
Though quick & keen her mental eye Poor nature’s foibles to espy,
Some trails of ridicule to catch
Yet not a word she ever penned
Which hurt the feelings of a friend.
This poem was written by Jane Austen’s brother James after her death in 1817.
One wonders if he ever said any of these nice things to her while she was alive.
It reminds all of us to tell the people we care about just what they mean to us.