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Upon a Fit of Sickness

Twice ten years old not fully told

since nature gave me breath,

My race is run, my thread spun,

lo, here is fatal death.

All men must die, and so must I;

this cannot be revoked.

For Adam's sake this word God spake

when he so high provoked.

by Anne Bradstreet

In thankfull acknowledgment for the letters I received from my husband ovt of England

O thou that hear'st the Prayers of Thine,

And 'mongst them hast regarded Mine,

Hast heard my cry's, and seen my Teares;

Hast known my doubts and All my ffeares.

Thov hast releiv'd my fainting heart,

Nor payd me after my desert;

Thov hast to shore him safely brovght

For whom I thee so oft besovght.

by Anne Bradstreet

Deliverance From Another Sore Fit

In my distress I sought the Lord

When naught on earth could comfort give,

And when my soul these things abhorred,

Then, Lord, Thou said'st unto me, "Live."

Thou knowest the sorrows that I felt;

My plaints and groans were heard of Thee,

And how in sweat I seemed to melt

Thou help'st and Thou regardest me.

by Anne Bradstreet

The Four Ages of Man

Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,

Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.

The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,

Unstable, supple, moist, and cold’s his Nature.

The second: frolic claims his pedigree;

From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.

The third of fire and choler is compos’d,

Vindictive, and quarrelsome dispos’d.

by Anne Bradstreet

My soul, rejoice thou in thy God

My soul, rejoice thou in thy God,

Boast of him all the Day,

Walk in his Law, and kisse his Rod,

Cleaue close to him alway.

What tho: thy outward Man decay,

Thy inward shall waxe strong;

Thy body vile it shall bee chang'd,

And gloriovs made ere-long.

by Anne Bradstreet

For the restoration of my dear Husband from a burning Ague, June, 1661

When feares and sorrowes me besett,

Then did'st thou rid me out;

When heart did faint and spirits quail,

Thou comforts me about.

Thou rais'st him vp I feard to loose,

Regau'st me him again:

Distempers thou didst chase away;

With strenght didst him sustain.

by Anne Bradstreet

My thankfull heart with glorying Tongue

Shall celebrate thy Name,

Who hath restor'd, redeem'd, recur'd

From sicknes, death, and Pain.

I cry'd thov seem'st to make some stay,

I sovght more earnestly;

And in due time thou succóur'st me,

And sent'st me help from High.

by Anne Bradstreet

In Thankful Remembrance for My Dear Husband's Safe Arrival

What shall I render to Thy name

Or how Thy praises speak?

My thanks how shall I testify?

O Lord, Thou know'st I'm weak.

I owe so much, so little can

Return unto Thy name,

Confusion seizes on my soul,

And I am filled with shame.

by Anne Bradstreet

The four Seasons of the Year

Spring.

Another four I've left yet to bring on,

Of four times four the last Quaternion,

The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,

In season all these Seasons I shall bring:

Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,

At present claim'd, and had priority.

With smiling face and garments somewhat green,

by Anne Bradstreet

Of the Four Ages of Man

Lo, now four other act upon the stage,

Childhood and Youth, the Many and Old age:

The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water,

Unstable, supple, cold and moist's his nature

The second, frolic, claims his pedigree

From blood and air, for hot and moist is he.

The third of fire and choler is compos'd,

Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd.

by Anne Bradstreet

Prologue

To sing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings,

Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun,

For my mean Pen are too superior things;

Or how they all, or each their dates have run,

Let Poets and Historians set these forth.

My obscure lines shall not so dim their worth.

But when my wond'ring eyes and envious heart

Great Bartas' sugar'd lines do but read o'er,

by Anne Bradstreet

Davids Lamentation for Saul and Jonathan

2. Sam. 1. 19.Alas slain is the Head of Israel,

Illustrious Saul whose beauty did excell,

Upon thy places mountainous and high,

How did the Mighty fall, and falling dye?

In Gath let not this things be spoken on,

Nor published in streets of Askalon,

Lest daughters of the Philistines rejoyce,

Lest the uncircumcis'd lift up their voice.

by Anne Bradstreet