TO BETSEY-JANE, ON HER DESIRING TO GO INCONTINENTLY TO HEAVEN
Reading edition
My Betsey-Jane it would not do, For what would Heaven make of you, A little honey-loving bear, Among the Blessèd Babies there? Nor do you dwell with us in vain Who tumble and get up again And try, with bruisèd knees, to smile— Sweet, you are blessèd all the while And we in you: so wait, they’ll come To take your hand and fetch you home, In Heavenly leaves to play at tents With all the Holy Innocents.