Tixall Poetry/On the Death of Mrs Moore's Little Sonne, at Amsterdam

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On the Death of Mr Morgan, Whose Last Words Were, "O God, What Is Man!"

Tixall Poetry
edited by Arthur Clifford

On the Death of Mrs Moore's Little Sonne, at Amsterdam by unknown author

To His Mistress, upon Returne from Travells

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4302747Tixall Poetry — On the Death of Mrs Moore's Little Sonne, at Amsterdamunknown author

On the Death of

Mrs Moore's Little Sonne,

at Amsterdam.

Oh, stay those teares that blind thee thus,
Thou seest not how iniurious
Thou art become to th' ether skies,
Both of the starves, and of thyn' eyes.
Should I, when oft some plant I see
Wher hope had destined me a tree,
Soone blasted by the frost or wind,
Call nature, or the yeare, unkind?
In natures bookes, who knows but yet,
In some by leafe, it may be writt,
From th' ashes where that plant had stood,
Might, phœnix-like, grow up a wood?

And who dare be so rash to say
Where you your buried infant lay,
But thence some milkye vapours given,
May feed a newborn starr in heaven?

Tixall Poetry/On the Death of Mrs Moore's Little Sonne, at Amsterdam

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