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An Epitaph Upon A Child: Poem by Robert Herrick

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Virgins promised when I died,
That they would each primrose-tide
Duly, morn and evening, come,
And with flowers dress my tomb.
--Having promised, pay your debts
Maids, and here strew violets.

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More poems by Robert Herrick

  • How His Soul Came Ensnared
  • Matins, Or Morning Prayer
  • On A Perfumed Lady
  • Loss From The Least
  • To Robin Red-Breast
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