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Sir John Beaumont

Of his Dear Son, Gervase

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:
Let his pure soul, ordain’d seven years to be
In that frail body which was part of me,
Remain my pledge in Heaven, as sent to show
How to this port at every step I go.

About the poet

Sir John Beaumont
1582-1627

 
By the same poet
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Related books
Sir John Beaumont at amazon.co.uk