1. Anne Bradstreet poems By Jay Collins

2. 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 prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence. Thy love is such I can no way repay. The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever That when we live no more, we may live ever.

3. We May Live Together 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 prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence. Thy love is such I can no way repay. The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever That when we live no more, we may live ever.

4. Flesh and the Spirit, The 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, who had her eye On worldly wealth and vanity; The other Spirit, who did rear Her thoughts unto a higher sphere. "Sister," quoth Flesh, "what liv'st thou on Nothing but Meditation? Doth Contemplation feed thee so Regardlessly to let earth go? Can Speculation satisfy Notion without Reality? Dost dream of things beyond the Moon And dost thou hope to dwell there soon? Hast treasures there laid up in store That all in th' world thou count'st but poor? Art fancy-sick or turn'd a Sot To catch at shadows which are not? Come, come. I'll show unto thy sense, Industry hath its recompence. What canst desire, but thou maist see True substance in variety? Dost honour like? Acquire the same, As some to their immortal fame; And trophies to thy name erect Which wearing time shall ne'er deject. For riches dost thou long full sore? Behold enough of precious store. Earth hath more silver, pearls, and gold Than eyes can see or hands can hold. Affects thou pleasure? Take thy fill. Earth hath enough of what you will. Then let not go what thou maist find For things unknown only in mind."

5. 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 Soul did Love, With tears I sought him earnestly. He bow'd his ear down from Above. In vain I did not seek or cry.. My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good; He in his Bottle put my tears, My smarting wounds washt in his blood, And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.. What to my Saviour shall I give Who freely hath done this for me? I'll serve him here whilst I shall live And Loue him to Eternity

6. 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 parting blow are sure to meet. The sentence past is most irrevocable, A common thing, yet oh, inevitable. How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend, How soon't may be thy lot to lose thy friend, We both are ignorant, yet love bids me These farewell lines to recommend to thee, That when the knot's untied that made us one, I may seem thine, who in effect am none. And if I see not half my days that's due, What nature would, God grant to yours and you; The many faults that well you know I have Let be interred in my oblivious grave; If any worth or virtue were in me, Let that live freshly in thy memory And when thou feel'st no grief, as I no harmes, Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms, And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains Look to my little babes, my dear remains. And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me, These O protect from stepdame's injury. And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse, With some sad sighs honor my absent hearse; And kiss this paper for thy dear love's sake, Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.

7. Author to her Book, The Thou ill-form'd 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 expos'd to public view, Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge, Where errors were not lessened (all may judge). At thy return my blushing was not small, My rambling brat (in print) should mother call. I cast thee by as one unfit for light, Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight, Yet being mine own, at length affection would Thy blemishes amend, if so I could. I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw, And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw. I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet, Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet. In better dress to trim thee was my mind, But nought save home-spun Cloth, i' th' house I find. In this array, 'mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam. In Critics' hands, beware thou dost not come, And take thy way where yet thou art not known. If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none; And for thy Mother, she alas is poor, Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.

8. Here Follows Some Verses upon the Burning of Our House In silent night when rest I took For sorrow near I did not look I waked was with thund'ring noise And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice. That fearful sound of "Fire!" and "Fire!" Let no man know is my desire. I, starting up, the light did spy, And to my God my heart did cry To strengthen me in my distress And not to leave me succorless. Then, coming out, beheld a space The flame consume my dwelling place. And when I could no longer look, I blest His name that gave and took, That laid my goods now in the dust. Yea, so it was, and so 'twas just. It was His own, it was not mine, Far be it that I should repine; He might of all justly bereft But yet sufficient for us left. When by the ruins oft I past My sorrowing eyes aside did cast, And here and there the places spy Where oft I sat and long did lie: Here stood that trunk, and there that chest, There lay that store I counted best. My pleasant things in ashes lie, And them behold no more shall I. Under thy roof no guest shall sit, Nor at thy table eat a bit. No pleasant tale shall e'er be told, Nor things recounted done of old. No candle e'er shall shine in thee, Nor bridegroom's voice e'er heard shall be. In silence ever shall thou lie, Adieu, Adieu, all's vanity. Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide, And did thy wealth on earth abide? Didst fix thy hope on mold'ring dust? The arm of flesh didst make thy trust? Raise up thy thoughts above the sky That dunghill mists away may fly. Thou hast an house on high erect, Framed by that mighty Architect, With glory richly furnished, Stands permanent though this be fled. It's purchased and paid for too By Him who hath enough to do. A price so vast as is unknown Yet by His gift is made thine own; There's wealth enough, I need no more, Farewell, my pelf, farewell my store. The world no longer let me love, My hope and treasure lies above.

9. A Letter to Her Husband My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my magazine, of earthly store, If two be one, as surely thou and I, How stayest thou there, whilst I at Ipswich lie? So many steps, head from the heart to sever, If but a neck, soon should we be together. I, like the Earth this season, mourn in black, My Sun is gone so far in's zodiac, Whom whilst I 'joyed, nor storms, nor frost I felt, His warmth such fridged colds did cause to melt. My chilled limbs now numbed lie forlorn; Return; return, sweet Sol, from Capricorn; Which sweet contentment yield me for a space, True living pictures of their father's face. O strange effect! now thou art southward gone, I weary grow the tedious day so long; But when thou northward to me shalt return, I wish my Sun may never set, but burn Within the Cancer of my glowing breast, The welcome house of him my dearest guest. Where ever, ever stay, and go not thence, Till nature's sad decree shall call thee hence; Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, I here, thou there, yet both but one.

10. A Love Letter to Her Husband Phoebus make haste, the day's too long, begone, 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: (And if the whirling of thy wheels do n't drown'd The woful accents of my doleful sound), If in thy swift career thou canst make stay, I crave this boon, this errand by the way: Commend me to the man more lov'd than life, Show him the sorrows of his widow'd wife, My dumpish thoughts, my groans, my brackish tears, My sobs, my longing hopes, my doubting fears, And, if he love, how can he there abide? My interest's more than all the world beside. He that can tell the stars or Ocean sand, Or all the grass that in the meads do stand, The leaves in th' woods, the hail or drops of rain, Or in a cornfield number every grain, Or every mote that in the sunshine hops, May court my sighs and number all my drops. Tell him, the countless steps that thou dost trace, That once a day thy spouse thou mayst embrace; And when thou canst not treat by loving mouth, Thy rays afar, salute her from the south. But for one month I see no day (poor soul) Like those far situate under the pole, Which day by day long wait for thy arise, O how they joy when thou dost light the skies. O Phoebus, hadst thou but thus long from thine Restrain'd the beams of thy beloved shine, At thy return, if so thou couldst or durst, Behold a Chaos blacker than the first. Tell him here's worse than a confused matter, His little world's a fathom under water, Naught but the fervor of his ardent beams Hath power to dry the torrent of these streams. Tell him I would say more, but cannot well, Opressed minds abrupted tales do tell. Now post with double speed, mark what I say, By all our loves conjure him not to stay.