And with her lisping tongue my name oft say.
May the smooth turf her soft bones hide, and be
O earth, as light to her, as she to thee!”
Fletcher.
Ep. X, 61.
“Underneath this greedy stone
Lies little sweet Erotion;
Whom the Fates, with hearts as cold,
Nipp’d away at six years old.
Thou, whoever thou mayst be,