Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ALICE RODD by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE

Poet Analysis

First Line: HERE LYETH OUR INFANT, ALICE RODD
Last Line: AND NOW WE WEEPE NO MORE THAN WE FORGET.
Subject(s): EPITAPHS;
Here lyeth our infant, Alice Rodd;
She were so small,
Scarce aught at all,
But a mere breath of Sweetness sent from God.

Sore we did weepe; our heartes on sorrow set.
Till on our knees
God sent us ease;
And now we weepe no more than we forget.



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