| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | X. The Pity of It
Of my dear son Gervase | | By Sir John Beaumont (1583–1627) |
| | | CAN I, who have for others oft compil’d | |
| The songs of death, forget my sweetest child, | |
| Which, like a flow’r crusht, with a blast is dead, | |
| And ere full time hangs down his smiling head, | |
| Expecting with clear hope to live anew, | 5 |
| Among the angels fed with heav’nly dew?… | |
| Dear Lord, receive my son, whose winning love | |
| To me was like a friendship, far above | |
| The course of nature or his tender age; | |
| Whose looks could all my bitter griefs assuage: | 10 |
| Let his pure soul, ordain’d seven years to be | |
| In that frail body which was part of me, | |
| Remain my pledge in Heav’n, as sent to show | |
| How to this port at every step I go. | | | | |
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