On My Dear Grand-Child Simon Bradstreet, Who Dyed On 16. Novemb. 1669. Being But A Moneth, And One Day Old.
No sooner come, but gone, and fal'n asleep, Acquaintance short, yet parting caus'd us weep. Three flours, two scarcely blown, the last i'th' bud, Cropt by th' Almighties hand; yet is he good, With dreadful awe before him let's be mute, Such was his will, but why, let's not dispute, With humble hearts and mouths put in the dust, Let's say he's merciful as well as just. He will return, and make up all our losses, And smile again, after our bitter crosses. Go pretty babe go rest with Sisters twain Among the blest in endless joyes remain.
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"No sooner come, but gone, and fal'n asleep,..."
This evocative piece by Anne Bradstreet, titled "On My Dear Grand-Child Simon Bradstreet, Who Dyed On 16. Novemb. 1669. Being But A Moneth, And One Day Old.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...