UPON A CHILD THAT DIED
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.
Robert Herrick
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.
Robert Herrick’s little epitaph is spoken over the grave of an infant. The girl is imagined as a “pretty bud” that had only just taken human form—lately made of flesh and blood—before she closed her eyes.
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