Upon A Child That Died
by
Here she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood;
Who as soon fell fast asleep,
As her little eyes did peep.
–Give her strewings, but not stir
The earth, that lightly covers her.
Here she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood;
Who as soon fell fast asleep,
As her little eyes did peep.
–Give her strewings, but not stir
The earth, that lightly covers her.