Classic Poem

Jeanne la Rousse

One infant sleeping on her breast,
Another on her back at rest,
In wooden shoes, half starved with cold,
The eldest of her gown has hold
Far off, alas! their prisoned sire,
Though bound, still braves the keeper's ire,
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!

The village-teacher's darling child,
I've seen her trimly dressed: she smiled,
She read, she worked, she sang — at ease,
Her good kind heart was sure to please
Dancing beneath the chestnut trees
Her soft, white hand I used to squeeze:
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!

A farmer, rich, of her own age,
Who might, she hoped, her hand engage,
By jeering villagers was led
To jilt her — why? her hair was red.
Twice, thrice it happened — with disdain
All treat her — portionless is Jane
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!

As length a scape-grace says, " Or red
Or flaxen-haired, thee, Jane, I'll wed:
In vain the keepers are afield,
Three guns I've got, haunts well concealed;
If blessed our bed of moss must be,
For Castle Chaplain I've a fee
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!

Jane yields to Nature's gentle plea
That wife and mother she should be:
And thrice since then, in bitter joy,
'Mid the lone woods she's borne a boy
Poor little rogues, they shoot and thrive,
Fresh as young buds when Spring's alive
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!

What wonders a good heart can do!
Jane, to her duty ever true,
Still smiles — her boys, she can declare,
Will have their father's jet-black hair;
And still she smiles — the prisoner's ear
Her gentle voice with hope can cheer.
Red-headed Jane, God heed thy cares;
They've caught the poacher unawares!