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Poem by Aphra Behn


Epitaph on the Tombstone of a Child, the Last of Seven that Died Before


This Little, Silent, Gloomy Monument,
Contains all that was sweet and innocent ;
The softest pratler that e'er found a Tongue,
His Voice was Musick and his Words a Song ;
Which now each List'ning Angel smiling hears,
Such pretty Harmonies compose the Spheres;
Wanton as unfledg'd Cupids, ere their Charms
Has learn'd the little arts of doing harms ;
Fair as young Cherubins, as soft and kind,
And tho translated could not be refin'd ;
The Seventh dear pledge the Nuptial Joys had given,
Toil'd here on Earth, retir'd to rest in Heaven ;
Where they the shining Host of Angels fill,
Spread their gay wings before the Throne, and smile.



Aphra Behn


Aphra Behn's other poems:
  1. Oh, How the Hand the Lover Ought to Prize
  2. To Lysander
  3. The Disappointment
  4. Angellicas Lament
  5. Love Arm'd


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