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.
Of His Dear Son, Gervase
Sir John Beaumont
(1)
Poem topics: heaven, nature, son, dear, soul, tender, receive, pure, remain, bitter, step, body, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Previous Poem
Next Poem
Write your comment about Of His Dear Son, Gervase poem by Sir John Beaumont
Best Poems of Sir John Beaumont