Several Poems, Addendum
Several other Poems made by the Author upon Diverſe Occaſions, were found among her Papers after her Death, which ſhe never …ednt ſhould come to publick view, amongſt which, theſe following (at the deſire of ſ…me friends that knew her well) are … inſ…rted
Upon a Fit of Sickneſs, Anno. 1632. A…tat…s ſuae, 10.
TWice ten years old, not ſully told
Since nature gave me breath,
My race is run, my thread is ſpun,
lo here is fatal Death.
All men muſt dye, and ſo muſt I
this cannot be revok'd
For Adams ſake, this word God ſpake
when he ſo high provok'd.
Yet live I ſhall, this life's but ſmall,
in place of higheſt bliſs,
Where I ſhall have all I can crave,
no life is like to this.
For what's this life, but care and ſtrife?
ſince firſt we came from womb,
Our ſtrength doth waſte, our time doth haſt,
and then we go to th' Tomb.
O Bubble blaſt, how long can'ſt laſt?
that alwayes art a breaking,
No ſooner blown, bu… dead and gone,
ev'n as a word that's ſpeaking.
O whil'ſt I live this grace me give,
I doing good may be.
Then deaths arreſt I ſhall count beſt,
becauſe it's thy decree;
Beſtow much coſt there's nothing loſt,
to make Salvation ſure,
O great's the gain, though got with pain▪
comes by profeſſion pure.
The race is ran, the field is won,
the victory's mine I ſee,
For ever know, thou envious foe,
the ſoyle belongs to thee.
Ʋpon ſome diſtemper of body
In anguiſh of my heart repleat with woes,
And waſting pains, which beſt my body knows▪
In toſſing ſlumbers on my wakeful bed,
Bedrencht with tears that ſlow'd 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,
He chac'd away thoſe clouds, and let me ſee
My Anchor caſt i'th' vale with ſafety.
He eas'd my Soul of woe, my fleſh of pain,
And brought me to the ſhore from troubled Main;
All things within this fading world hath end,
Adverſity doth ſtill our joyes a…end;
No tyes ſo ſtrong no friends ſo dear and ſweet,
But with deaths parting blow is ſure to meet.
The ſentence paſt is moſt irrovocable,
A common thing, yet oh inevitable,
How ſoon, my Dear death may my ſteps attend.
How ſoon't may be thy L…t to …oſe thy friend,
We both are ignorant, yet love bi…s me
Theſe farewell lines to recommend to thee,
That when that knot …s unty…e that made us one,
I may ſeem thine, who in effect am none.
And ill ſee not half my daye that's due,
What …ture would, God grant to yours and you:
The many faults that well you know I have,
Let be in…err'd in my oblivions grave,
Many worth or virtue were in me,
Let that live freſhly in thy memory
And when thou feel'ſt no grief, as I no harms,
Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms:
And when thy loſs ſhall be repaid with ga…ns
Look to my little babes my dear remains▪
And if thou love thy ſelf, or lovedſt me
Theſe O protect from ſtep Dames injury.
And if chance to thine eyes ſhall bring this verſe,
With ſome ſad ſighs honour my abſent Herſe;
And kiſs this paper for thy loves dea… ſake,
Who with ſalt tears this laſt Farewel did take
A. B.
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 then 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 recompence,
Thy love is ſuch I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love lets ſo perſever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
A Letter to her Husband, abſent upon Publick employment.
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 lye?
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 Zodiack,
Whom whilſt I'joy'd, nor ſtorms, nor froſts I felt,
His warmth ſuch frigid colds did cauſe to melt.
My chilled limbs now nummed lye forlor…;
Return, return ſweet Sol from Capricorn,
In this dead time, alas, what can I more
Then view thoſe fruits which through thy heat I bore?
Which ſweet contentment yield me for a ſpace,
True living Pictures of their Fathers face.
O ſtrange effect now thou art Southward gone,
I weary grow, the tedious d…y 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 natures ſad decree ſhall call thee hence;
Fleſh of thy fleſh, bone of thy bone,
I here, thou there, yet both but one.
A. B.
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:
(And if the whirling of thy wheels don't drown'd)
The woful accents of my doleful ſound,
If in thy ſwift Carrier thou canſt make ſtay,
I crave this boon, this Errand by the way.
Commend me to the man more lov'd then life,
Shew him the ſorrows of his widdowed wife;
My dumpiſh thoughts, my groans, my braniſh tears
My ſobs, my longing hopes, my doubting fears,
And if he love, how can he there abide?
My Intereſt's more then all the world beſide.
He that can tell the ſtarrs 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 corn-field number every grain.
Or every mote that in the ſun-ſhine hops,
May count my ſighs, and number all my drops:
Tell him, the countleſs ſteps that thou doſt trace,
That once a day, thy Spouſe thou mayſt imbrace;
And when thou canſt not treat by loving mouth,
Thy rayes afar, ſalute her from the ſouth.
But for one monethmonth I ſee no day (poor ſoul)
Like thoſe far ſcituate under the pole,
Which day by day long wait for thy ariſe,
O how they joy when thou doſt light the skyes.
O Phoebus, hadſt thou but thus long from thine
Reſtrain'd the beams of thy beloved ſhine,
At thy return, if ſo thou could'ſt or durſt
Behold a Chaos blacker then the firſt.
Tell him here's worſe then a confuſed matter,
His little world's a fathom under water,
Nought but the ſervor of his ardent beams
Hath power to dry the torrent of theſe ſtreams.
Tell him I would ſay more, but cannot well,
Oppreſſed minds, abrupteſt tales do tell.
Now poſt with double ſpeed, mark what I ſay,
By all our loves conjure him not to ſtay.
Another.
A… …ving Hind that (Hartleſs) warts her Deer,
S…uds through the woods and Fern with harkning ear,
Perplext, in every bu…h & …ook doth pry,
Her deareſt Deer might anſwer ear or eye;
So doth my anxious foul, which now doth miſs,
A dearer Dear (far dearer Heart) then this.
Still wait with doubts, & hopes, and failing eye,
His voice to hear, or perſon to diſcry.
Or as the penſive Dove doth all alone
(On withered bough) moſt uncouthly bemoan
The abſence of her Love, and loving Mate,
Whoſe loſs hath made her ſo unfortunate:
Ev'n thus doe I, with many a deep ſad groan
Bewail my turtle true, who now is gone,
His preſence and his ſafe return, ſtill wooes,
With thouſand dolefull ſighs & mournfull Cooes.
Or as the loving Mullet, that true Fiſh,
Her fellow loſt, nor joy nor life do wiſh,
But lanches on that ſhore, there for to dye,
Where ſhe her captive husband doth eſpy.
Mine being gone, Head a joyleſs life,
I have a loving ph…re, yet ſeem no wife:
But worſt of all, to him can't ſteer my courſe
I here, he there, alas, both kept by force:
Return my Dear▪ my joy, my only Love,
Unto thy Hinde, thy Mullet and thy Dove,
Who neither joyes in paſture, houſe nor ſtreams,
The ſubſtance gone, O me, theſe are but dreams.
Together at one Tree, oh let us bronze,
And like two Turtles rooſt within one houſe,
And like the Mullets in one River glide,
Let's ſtill remain but one, till death divide.
Thy loving Love and Deareſt Dear, At home, abroad, and every where. A. B.
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?
Then may your worthy ſelf from whom it came.
The principle might yield a greater ſum,
Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crum;
My ſtock's ſo ſmall, I know not how to pay,
My Bond remains in force unto this day;
Yet for part payment take this ſimple mite.
Where nothing's to be had Kings looſe their right
Such is my debt, I may not ſay forgive,
But as I can, I'le pay it while I live;
Such is my bond, none can diſcharge but I,
Yet paying is not payd until I dye.
A. B.
In reference to her Children, 23. June, 16…6.
I Had eight birds hatcht in one neſt,
Four Cocks there were, and Hens the reſt,
I nurſt them up with pain and care,
Nor coſt, nor labour did I ſpare,
Till at the laſt they felt their wing▪
Mounted the Trees, and learn'd to ſing;
Chief of the Brood then took his flight,
To Regions far and left me quite:
My mournful chirps I after ſend,
Till he return, or I do end,
Leave not thy neſt, thy Dam and Sire,
Fly back and ſing amidſt this Quire.
My ſecond bird did take her flight,
And with her mate flew out of ſight;
Southward they both their courſe did bend,
And Seaſons twain they there did ſpend:
Till after blown by Southern gales,
They Norward ſteerd with filled ſayles.
A prettier bird was no where ſeen,
Along the Beach among the treen.
I have a third of colour white,
On whom I plac'd no ſmall delight;
Coupled with mate loving and true,
Hath alſo bid her Dam adieu:
And where Aurora firſt appears,
She now hath percht, to ſpend her years;
One to the Academy flew
To chat among that learned crew.
Ambition moves ſtill in his breaſt
That he might chant above the reſt,
Striving for more then to do well,
That nightingales he might excell.
My fifth, whoſe down is yet ſcarce gone
Is 'mongſt the ſhrubs and buſhes flown,
And as his wings increaſe in ſtrength▪
On higher boughs he'l pearch at length▪
My other three, ſtill with me neſt,
Untill they'r grown, then as the reſt,
Or here or there, they'l take their flight,
As is ordain'd, ſo ſhall they light.
If birds could weep, then would my tea…
Let others know what are my fears
Leſt this my brood ſome harm ſhould catch,
And be ſurpriz'd for want of watch,
Whilſt pecking corn, and void of care
They fall un'wares in Fowlers ſnare:
Or whilſt on trees they ſit and ſing,
Some untoward boy at them do fling:
Or whilſt allur'd with bell and glaſs,
The net be ſpread, and caught, alas.
Or leaſt by Lime twigs they be foyl'd,
Or by ſome greedy hawks be ſpoyl'd.
O would my young, ye ſaw my breaſt,
And knew what thoughts there ſadly reſt,
Great was my pain when I you bred,
Great was my care, when I you fed,
Long did I keep you ſoft and warm,
An w…m wings kept off all harm,
My cares are more, and fears then ever,
My thr…bs ſuch now, as 'fore were never:
Alas my birds, you wiſdome want,
O… perils you are ignorant,
Oft times in graſs, on trees, in flight,
Sore accidents on you may light.
O to your ſafety have an eye,
So happy may you live and die:
Mean while my dayes in times Ile ſpend,
Till my weak layes with me ſhall end.
In ſhady woods I'le ſit and ſing,
And things that paſt, to mind I'le bring.
Once young and pleaſant, as are you,
But former toyes (no joyes) adieu.
My age I will not once lament,
But ſing, my time ſo near is ſpent.
And from the top bough take my flight,
Into a country beyond ſight,
Where old ones, inſtantly grow young,
And there with Seraphims ſet ſong:
No ſeaſons cold, nor ſtorms they ſee;
But ſpring laſts to eternity,
When each of you ſhall in your neſt
Among your young ones take your reſt,
In chirping language, oft them tell,
You had a Dam that lov'd you well,
That did what could be done for young,
And nurſt you up till you were ſtrong,
And 'fore ſhe once would let you fly,
She ſhew'd you joy and miſery;
Taught what was good, and what was ill,
What would ſave life, and what would kill?
Thus gone, amongſt you I may live,
And dead, yet ſpeak, and counſel give:
Farewel my birds, farewel adieu,
I happy am, if well with you.
A. B.
In memory of my dear grand-child Elizabeth Bradſtreet, who deceaſed Auguſt, 1605. being a year and half old.
FArewel dear babe, my hearts too much content,
Farewel ſweet babe, the pleaſure of mine eye,
Farewel fair flower that for a ſpace was lent,
Then ta'en away unto Eternity.
Bleſt babe why ſhould I once bewail thy fate,
Or ſigh the dayes ſo ſoon were terminate;
Sith thou art ſetled in an Everlaſting ſtate.
2.
By nature Trees do rot when they are grown.
And Plumbs and Apples throughly ripe do fall,
And Corn and graſs are in their ſeaſon mown,
And time brings down what is both ſtrong and tall.
But plants new ſet to be eradicate.
And buds new blown, to have ſo ſhort a date,
Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate.
In memory of my dear grand child Anne Bradſtreet. Who deceaſed June 20. 1669. being three years and ſeven Moneths old.
WIth troubled heart & trembling hand I write,
The Heavens have chang'd to ſorrow my delight.
How oft with diſappointment have I met,
When I on fading things my hopes have ſet?
Experience might 'fore this have made me wiſe,
To value things according to their price:
Was ever ſtable joy yet found below?
Or perfect bliſs without mixture of woe.
I knew ſhe was but as a withering flour,
That's here to day perhaps gone in an hour;
Like as a bubble, or the brittle glaſs,
Or like a ſhadow turning as it was.
More fool then I to look on that was lent,
As if mine own, when thus impermanent.
Farewel dear child, thou ne…re ſhall come to me,
But yet a while, and I ſhall go to thee,
Mean time my throbbing heart's chear'd up with this
Thou with thy Saviour art in endleſs bliſs.
On my dear Grand-child Simon Bradſtreet, Who dyed on 16. Novemb. 1669. being but a monethmonth, and one day old.
No ſooner come, but gone, and fal'n aſleep,
Acquaintance ſhort, yet parting caus'd us weep,
Three flours, two ſcarcely blown, the laſt i'th' bud,
Cropt by th' Almighties hand; yet is he good,
With dreadful awe before him let's be mute,
Such was his will, but why, let's not diſpute,
With humble hearts and mouths put in the duſt,
Let's ſay he's me…ciful as well as juſt.
He will return, and make up all our loſſes,
And ſmile again, after our bitter croſſes.
Go pretty babe go reſt with Siſters twain
Among the bleſt in endleſs joyes remain.
A. B.
To the memory of my dear Daughter in Law, Mrs. Mercy Bradſtreet, who deceaſed Sept. 6. 1669. in the 28. year of her Age.
And live I ſtill to ſee Relations gone,
And yet ſurvive to ſound this wailing tone▪
Ah, woe is me, to write thy Funeral Song,
Who might in reaſon yet have lived long,
I ſaw the branches lopt the Tree now fall,
I ſtood ſo nigh, it cruſht me down withal;
My bruiſed heart lies ſobbing at the Root,
That thou dear Son hath loſt both Tree and fruit:
Thou then on Seas failing to forreign Coaſt;
Was ignorant what riches thou hadſt loſt.
But ah too ſoon thoſe heavy tydings fly,
To ſtrike thee with amazing miſery;
Oh how I ſimpathize with thy ſad heart,
And in thy griefs ſtill bear a ſecond part:
I loſt a daughter dear, but thou a wife,
Who lov'd thee more (it ſeem'd) then her own life.
Thou being gone, ſhe longer could not be,
Becauſe her Soul ſhe'd ſent along with thee.
One week ſhe only paſt in pain and woe,
And then her ſorrows all at once did go;
A Babe ſhe left before, ſhe ſoar'd above,
The fifth and laſt pledg of her dying love,
E're nature would, it hither did arrive,
No wonder it no longer did ſurvive.
So with her Children four, ſhe's now at reſt,
All …reed from grief (I truſt) among the bleſt;
She one hath left, a joy to thee and me,
The Heavens vouchſafe ſhe may ſo ever be▪
Chear up (dear Son) thy fainting bleeding heart,
In him alone, that cauſed all this ſmart;
What though thy ſtrokes full ſad & grievous be,
He knows it is the beſt for thee and me.
A. B.