Anne Bradstreet

Anne Bradstreet was a 17th-century Puritan poet, the first published writer in colonial America. Her work is known for its intimate reflections on family, faith, and domestic life. Biography ↓More ↓

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Anne Bradstreet

A Letter to Her Husband

Absent upon Public 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 lie? 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 zodiac, Whom whilst I 'joyed, nor storms, nor frost I felt, His warmth such fridged colds did cause to melt. My chilled limbs now numbed lie forlorn; Return; return, sweet Sol, from Capricorn; In this dead time, alas, what can I more Than view those fruits which through thy heart I bore? Which sweet contentment yield me for a space,

Anne Bradstreet

Upon My Dear and Loving Husband his Going into England Jan. 16

O thou Most High who rulest all And hear'st the prayers of thine, O hearken, Lord, unto my suit And my petition sign. Into Thy everlasting arms Of mercy I commend Thy servant, Lord. Keep and preserve My husband, my dear friend. At Thy command, O Lord, he went, Nor nought could keep him back. Then let Thy promise joy his heart, O help and be not slack. Uphold my heart in Thee, O God. Thou art my strength and stay, Thou see'st how weak and frail I am, Hide not Thy face away.

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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 than 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 recompetence. Thy love is such I can no way repay. The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let's so persever That when we live no more, we may live ever.

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 Than may your worthy self from whom it came? The principal might yield a greater sum, Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crumb; 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'll pay it while I live; Such is my bond, none can discharge but I, Yet paying is not paid until I die.

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.

O Thou that hearest prayers, Lord, To Thee shall come all flesh Thou hast me heard and answered, My plaints have had access.

What did I ask for but Thou gav'st? What could I more desire? But thankfulness even all my days I humbly this require.

Thy mercies, Lord, have been so great In number numberless, Impossible for to recount Or any way express.

O help Thy saints that sought Thy face T' return unto Thee praise And walk before Thee as they ought, In strict and upright ways.

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 death's 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 soon't 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 knot's untied that made us one, I may seem thine, who in effect am none. And if I see not half my days that's 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 feel'st 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 loved'st me, These O protect from stepdame's 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 love's sake, Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.

Biography

Born around 1612 in England, she emigrated to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1630 as part of the Puritan migration. She wrote poetry while managing a household and raising eight children, often drawing on her personal experiences of love, loss, and spiritual struggle. Her verse combines plain style with vivid imagery of domesticity and nature, exploring themes of marriage, motherhood, illness, and religious devotion. In 1650, her collection 'The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America' was published in London, marking the first book of poetry by a colonist in British North America. Later editions included more personal poems, such as 'To My Dear and Loving Husband' and 'Upon the Burning of Our House', which reveal her emotional depth and literary skill. Though she worked within the constraints of Puritan orthodoxy, her voice is remarkably candid and self-reflective. She is now regarded as a foundational figure in American literature, paving the way for future generations of women writers.

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