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Anne Bradstreet: The Author To Her Book
The Author To Her Book Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did'st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad…Anne Bradstreet: Before the Birth of One of Her Children
Before the Birth of One of Her Children All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joys attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, But with death's…Anne Bradstreet: In Reference to her Children
In Reference to her Children I had eight birds hatcht in one nest, Four Cocks were there, and Hens the rest. I nurst them up with pain and care, No cost nor labour did I spare Till at the…Anne Bradstreet: To my Dear and Loving Husband
To my Dear and Loving Husband If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee. If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can. I…Anne Bradstreet: To Her Father with Some Verses
To Her Father with Some Verses Most truly honoured, and as truly dear, If worth in me or ought I do appear, Who can of right better demand the same Than may your worthy self from whom it…Anne Bradstreet: By Night when Others Soundly Slept
By Night when Others Soundly Slept By night when others soundly slept And hath at once both ease and Rest, My waking eyes were open kept And so to lie I found it best. I sought him whom my…Anne Bradstreet: The Flesh and the Spirit
The Flesh and the Spirit In secret place where once I stood Close by the Banks of Lacrim flood, I heard two sisters reason on Things that are past and things to come. One Flesh was call'd,…Anne Bradstreet: Verses upon the Burning of our House
Verses upon the Burning of our House In silent night when rest I took, For sorrow near I did not look, I waken'd was with thund'ring noise And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice. That fearful…Anne Bradstreet: The Vanity of All Worldly Things
The Vanity of All Worldly Things As he said vanity, so vain say I, Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky; Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found On brittle earth a consolation sound"?…Anne Bradstreet: Another
Another Phoebus make haste, the day's too long, be gone, The silent night's the fittest time for moan; But stay this once, unto my suit give ear, And tell my griefs in either hemisphere…Trending
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