ROBERT HERRICK

But now we see none here Whose silv'ry feet did tread

\nd with dishevell'd hair Adorn'd this smoother mead.

Like unthrifts, having spent Your stock and needy grown,

You're left here to lament Your poor estates, alone.

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��271. A Child's Grace ERE a little child I stand

Heaving up my either hand ; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat and on us all. Amen.

272. Epitaph

upon a Child that died T T ERE 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.

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��27 j. Another

ERE a pretty baby lies

Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th' easy earth that covers her. . paddocks] frogs.

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