Classic Poem

A child of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel
Epitaphs: ii

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 seem'd to strive
   Which own'd the creature.
Years he number'd scarce thirteen
   When Fates turn'd cruel,
Yet three fill'd zodiacs had he been
   The stage's jewel;
And did act (what now we moan)
   Old men so duly,
As sooth the Parcae thought him one,
   He play'd 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.