on: SORE SICKE THEY WERE AND LIKE TO DYE]

[Illustration]

Now ponder well, you parents deare,
These wordes which I shall write;
A doleful story you shall heare,
In time brought forth to light.

A gentleman of good account
In Norfolke dwelt of late,
Who did in honour far surmount
Most men of his estate.

Sore sicke he was, and like to dye,
No helpe his life could save;
His wife by him as sicke did lye,
And both possest one grave.

[Illustration]

No love between these two was lost,
Each was to other kinde;
In love they liv'd, in love they dyed,
And left two babes behinde:

The one a fine and pretty boy,
Not passing three yeares olde;
The other a girl more young than he
And fram'd in beautye's molde.

The father left his little son,
As plainlye doth appeare,
When he to perfect age should come
Three hundred poundes a yeare.

And to his little daughter Jane
Five hundred poundes in gold,
To be paid downe on marriage-day,
Which might not be controll'd:

[Illustration]

But if the children chanced to dye,
Ere they to age should come,
Their uncle should possesse their wealth;
For so the wille did run.

[Illustration: NOW, BROTHER, said the dying man,
LOOK TO MY CHILDREN DEARE]

"Now, brother," said the dying man,
"Look to my children deare;
Be good unto my boy and girl,
No friendes else have they here:

"To God and you I do commend
My children deare this daye;
But little while be sure we have
Within this world to staye.

"You must be father and mother both,
And uncle all in one;
God knowes what will become of them,
When I am dead and gone."

[Illustration]

With that bespake their mother deare:
"O brother kinde," quoth shee,
"You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or miserie:

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

"And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward;
But if you otherwise should deal,
God will your deedes regard."

[Illustration: WITH LIPPES AS COLD AS ANY STONE,
THEY KIST THE CHILDREN SMALL]

With lippes as cold as any stone,
They kist the children small:
"God bless you both, my children deare;"