Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON MY BOY HENRY by JANE CAVENDISH

First Line: HERE LYES A BOY YE FINEST CHILD FROM ME
Last Line: I MOURNE NOT FOR THY BIRTH, NOR CRY.
Subject(s): DEATH - CHILDREN; GRIEF; HEARTS; SOUL; DEATH - BABIES; SORROW; SADNESS;
Here lyes a Boy ye finest child from me
Which makes my Heart & Soule sigh for to see
Nor can I think of any thought, but greeve,
For joy or pleasure could me not releeve,
It lived dayes as many as my years,
No more; wch caused my greeved teares;
Twenty and Nine was the number;
And death hath parted us asunder,
But yu art happy, Sweet'st on High,
I mourne not for thy Birth, nor Cry.



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