Fell  by  course  from  his  eyes.
That  one  another's  place  supplies ;
Thus  he  grieved  in  every  part,
Tears  of  blood  fell  from  his  heart
When  he  left  his  pretty  boy.
Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy.
Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ;
When  thou  art  old,  there's  grief  enough  for  thee.
The  wanton  smiled,  father  wept,

Mother  cried,  baby  leapt ;

More  he  cro\ved,  more  we  cried.
Nature  could  not  sorrow  hide  :


ROBERT  GREENE.
He  must  go,  he  must  kiss

Child  and  mother,  baby  bliss.
For  he  left  his  pretty  boy,

Father's  sorrow,  father's  joy.
Weep  not,  my  wanton,  smile  upon  my  knee ;
When  thou  art  old,  there's  grief  enough  for  thee.
Robert  Greene.
BEN  JONSON.
ON  MY  FIRST  DAUGHTER.
Here  lies,  to  each  her  parents'  ruth,

Mary,  the  daughter  of  their  youth  ;

Yet  all  Heaven's  gifts  being  Heaven's  due,

It  makes  the  father  less  to  rue.
At  six  months'  end  she  parted  hence,

With  safety  of  her  innocence ;

Whose  soul  Heaven's  queen  (whose  name  she  bears),

In  comfort  of  her  mother's  tears.
Hath  placed  among  her  virgin  train  :

Where,  while  that,  severed,  doth  remain,

This  grave  partakes  the  fleshly  birth  ;

Which  cover  lightly,  gentle  earth  !

Ben  Jonso7i.
BEN  JONSON.
ON  MY  FIRST  SON.
Farewell,  thou  child  of  my  right  hand,  and  joy  :

My  sin  was  too  much  hope  of  thee,  loved  boy  :

Seven  years  thou  wert  lent  to  me,  and  I  thee  pay,

Exacted  by  thy  faith  on  the  just  day.
O,  could  I  lose  all  father  now  !  for  why

Will  man  lament  the  state  he  should  envy  ?

To  have  so  soon  'scaped  world's  and  flesh's  rage.
