EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PAVY, A CHILD OF QUEEN ELIZABETH’S CHAPEL

WEEP with me all you that read

   This little story;

And know for whom a tear you shed,

   Death’s self is sorry.

’Twas a child that so did thrive

   In grace and feature,

As heaven and nature seemed to strive

   Which owned the creature.

Years he numbered scarce thirteen

   When fates turned cruel;

Yet three filled zodiacs had he been

   The stage’s jewel;

And did act, what now we moan,

   Old men so duly;

As, sooth, the Parcæ thought him one

   He played so truly.

So, by error to his fate

   They all consented;

But viewing him since, alas, too late!

   They have repented;

And have sought to give new birth,

   In baths to steep him;

But, being so much too good for earth,

   Heaven vows to keep him.