Poems by Anne Bradstreet

All Poems Original Poems Translations

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The four Monarchyes, the Assyrian being the first, beginning under Nimrod, 131 Years after the Floo

When time was young, & World in Infancy,

Man did not proudly strive for Soveraignty:

But each one thought his petty Rule was high,

If of his house he held the Monarchy.

This was the golden Age, but after came

The boisterous son of Chus, Grand-Child to Ham,

That mighty Hunter, who in his strong toyles

Both Beasts and Men subjected to his spoyles:

by Anne Bradstreet

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"?

What isn't in honor to be set on high?

No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,

And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;

He's now a captive that was king of late.

by Anne Bradstreet

Another (II)

As loving hind that (hartless) wants her deer,

Scuds through the woods and fern with hark'ning ear,

Perplext, in every bush and nook doth pry,

Her dearest deer, might answer ear or eye;

So doth my anxious soul, which now doth miss

A dearer dear (far dearer heart) than this.

Still wait with doubts, and hopes, and failing eye,

His voice to hear or person to descry.

by Anne Bradstreet

The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112 Olympiad

Great Alexander was wise Philips son,

He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;

The cruel proud Olympias was his Mother,

She to Epirus warlike King was daughter.

This Prince (his father by Pausanias slain)

The twenty first of's age began to reign.

Great were the Gifts of nature which he had,

His education much to those did adde:

by Anne Bradstreet

Epitaphs

Her Mother's Epitaph

Here lies

A worthy matron of unspotted life,

A loving mother and obedient wife,

A friendly neighbor, pitiful to poor,

Whom oft she fed, and clothed with her store;

To servants wisely aweful, but yet kind,

And as they did, so they reward did find:

by Anne Bradstreet

Upon Some Distemper of Body

In anguish of my heart replete with woes,

And wasting pains, which best my body knows,

In tossing slumbers on my wakeful bed,

Bedrenched with tears that flowed from mournful head,

Till nature had exhausted all her store,

Then eyes lay dry, disabled to weep more;

And looking up unto his throne on high,

Who sendeth help to those in misery;

by Anne Bradstreet

The Prologue

To sing of wars, of captains, and of kings,

Of cities founded, commonwealths 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 work.

But when my wondering eyes and envious heart

Great Bartas' sugared lines do but read o'er,

by Anne Bradstreet

In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence

O Lord, Thou hear'st my daily moan

And see'st my dropping tears.

My troubles all are Thee before,

My longings and my fears.

Thou hitherto hast been my God;

Thy help my soul hath found.

Though loss and sickness me assailed,

Through Thee I've kept my ground.

by Anne Bradstreet

Here Follow Several Occasional Meditations

By night when others soundly slept,

And had at once both case 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 bowed His ear down from above.

In vain I did not seek or cry.

by Anne Bradstreet

Spirit

Be still, thou unregenerate part,

Disturb no more my settled heart,

For I have vow'd (and so will do)

Thee as a foe still to pursue,

And combat with thee will and must

Until I see thee laid in th' dust.

Sister we are, yea twins we be,

Yet deadly feud 'twixt thee and me,

by Anne Bradstreet

In Honour of that High and Mighty Princess, Queen ELIZABETH

Proem.

Although great Queen, thou now in silence lie,

Yet thy loud Herald Fame, doth to the sky

Thy wondrous worth proclaim, in every clime,

And so has vow'd, whilst there is world or time.

So great's thy glory, and thine excellence,

The sound thereof raps every human sense

That men account it no impiety

by Anne Bradstreet

Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting

Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise,

But ah! It's not in me.

My sinking heart I pray Thee raise

So shall I give it Thee.

My life as spider's webb's cut off,

Thus fainting have I said,

And living man no more shall see

But be in silence laid.

by Anne Bradstreet