Upon the losse of his little finger


Arithmetique nine digits, and no more
Admits of, then I still have all my store.
For what mischance hath tane from my left hand,
It seemes did only for a Cipher stand.
But this I'le say for thee departed joynt,
Thou wert not given to steale, nor pick, nor point
At any in disgrace; but thou didst go;
Untimely to thy Death only to show
The other members what they once must doe;
Hand, arme, legge, thigh, and all must follow too.
Oft didst thou scan my verse, where if I misse
Henceforth I will impute the cause to this.
A fingers losse (I speake it not in sport)
Will make a verse a Foot too short.
Farewell deare finger, much I greive to see
How soone mischance hath made a Hand of thee.

Note:

According to Richard S. Sylvester's excellent The Anchor Anothology of Seventeenth Century Verse, Garden City New York, Doubleday and Company, 1969:

"Randolph's finger was cut off in a tavern brawl. He is said to have composed these verses immediately after that event."