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Poem by Anne Bradstreet


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 deaths 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 soont 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 knots untied that made us one,
I may seem thine, who in effect am none.
And if I see not half my days thats 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 feelst 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 lovedst me,
These O protect from stepdames 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 loves sake, 
Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.



Anne Bradstreet


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


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