Jim,
this is the only known poem by Lady Catherine Dyer, and it is a stunner.
Epitaph on the Monument of Sir William Dyer
at Colmworth, 1641.
My dearest dust, could not thy hasty day
Afford they drowzy patience leave to stay
One hower longer: so that we might either
Sate up, or gone to bedd together?
But since thy finisht labor hath possest
Thy weary limbs with early rest,
Enjoy it sweetly: and thy widdowe bride
Shall soone repose her by thy slumbring side.
Whose business,now, is only to prepare
My nightly dress, and call to prayre:
Mine eyes wax heavy and ye day growes cold.
Draw, draw ye closed curtaynes: and make room:
My deare, my dearest dust; I come, I come.
It is in 101 Sonnets, edited by Don Paterson. Interestingly it has only 13 lines.
Regards,
Oliver.
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