Epitaph On A Child
Here, freed from pain, secure from misery, lies
A child, the darling of his parents’ eyes:
A gentler lamb n’er sported on the plain,
A fairer flower will never bloom again:
Few were the days allotted to his breath;
Now let him sleep in peace his night of death.
Thomas Gray
Poet, classical scholar and Cambridge don (1716 – 1771)