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Poem 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; 
He chased away those clouds and let me see 
My anchor cast iТ thТ vale with safety. 
He eased my soul of woe, my flesh of pain, 
and brought me to the shore from troubled main.



Anne Bradstreet


Anne Bradstreet's other poems:
  1. For the Restoration of My Dear Husband from a Burning Ague, June, 1661
  2. Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting
  3. To Her Most Honoured Father Thomas Dudley Esq; These Humbly Presented
  4. For Deliverance from a Feaver
  5. Epitaphs


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