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.