My Dearest Dust* by Katherine D’Oyley Dyer

If a large hart, joined with a noble minde
Shewing true worth unto all good inclin’d
If faith in friendship, justice unto all,
Leave such a memory as we may call
Happy, thine is; then pious marble keepe
His just fame waking, though his lov’d dust sleepe.
And though death can devoure all that hath breath,
And monuments them selves have had a death,
Nature shan’t suffer this, to ruinate,
Nor time demolish’t, nor an envious fate,
Rais’d by a just hand, not vain glorious pride,
Who’d be concealed, wer’t modesty to hide
Such an affection did so long survive
The object of ’t; yet lov’d it as alive.
And this greate blessing to his name doth give
To make it by his tombe, and issue live.

My dearest dust, could not thy hasty day
Afford thy 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 old.
The dew falls thick, my beloved growes cold.
Draw, draw ye closed curtaynes: and make room:
My dear, my dearest dust; I come, I come.

*Epitaph on a monument erected in 1641 by Lady Katherine Dyer to her husband Sir William Dyer in Colmworth Church, Bedfordshire


Date: 1641

By: Katherine D’Oyley Dyer (c1575-1654)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: