Upon A Child That Died

A poem by Robert Herrick

Here 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.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Upon A Child That Died' by Robert Herrick

comments powered by Disqus