This week two elegies for small girl children, the first Christian and grave, the second secular and almost playful, but both, I think, quite touching.
Here lies, but seven years old, our little maid
Once of the darkness, oh, so sore afraid!
Light of the World, remember that small fear,
And when nor moon nor stars do shine, draw near.
Walter De La Mare
Here lies resting, out of breath,
Out of turns, Elizabeth,
Whose quicksilver toes not quite
Cleared the whirring edge of night.
Earth whose circles round us skim
Till they catch the lightest limb,
Shelter now Elizabeth
And for her sake trip up death.