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This is mine end, I may it not astart;[2]
O brother mine, there is no more to say;
Lowly beseeching with mine whole heart
For to remember specially, I pray,
If it befall my little son to dey[3]
That thou mayst after some mind on us have,
Suffer us both be buried in one grave.
I hold him strictly 'tween my armes twain,
Thou and Nature laid on me this charge;
He, guiltless, muste with me suffer pain,
And, since thou art at freedom and at large,
Let kindness oure love not so discharge,
But have a mind, wherever that thou be,
Once on a day upon my child and me.
On thee and me dependeth the trespace
Touching our guilt and our great offence,
But, welaway! most angelic of face
Our childe, young in his pure innocence,
Shall against right suffer death's violence,
Tender of limbs, God wot, full guilteless
The goodly fair, that lieth here speechless.
A mouth he has, but wordes hath he none;
Cannot complain, alas! for none outrage:
Nor grutcheth[4] not, but lies here all alone
Still as a lamb, most meek of his visage.


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