Weep with me, all you that read <br />This little story; <br />And know, for whom a tear you shed <br />Death's self is sorry. <br />'Twas a child that so did thrive <br />In grace and feature, <br />As heaven and nature seemed to strive <br />Which owned the creature. <br /> <br />Years he numbered scarce thirteen <br />When fates turned cruel, <br />Yet three filled zodiacs had be been <br />The stage's jewel; <br />And did act what now we moan, <br />Old men so duly, <br />As, sooth, the parcae thought him one, <br />He played so truly. <br /> <br />So by error, so his fate <br />They all consented; <br />But viewing him since, alas too late, <br />They have repented, <br />And have sought to give new birth, <br />In baths to steep him; <br />But being so much too good for earth, <br />Heaven vows to keep him.<br /><br />Benjamin Jonson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-epitaph-on-a-child-of-queen-elizabeth-s-chape/
