Friday, September 23, 2011

POEM #4 - Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672)

Another "friend" I met in college. Mrs. Bradstreet, according to, wrote most of her poems when her husband, a governor, was away on political errands. There's going to be more than one of hers in this series. The following poem I had done in calligraphy by my oh-so-creative and artistic friend, Paula Miller. It sits on Nathan's bedside table.

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved 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 recompense.
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 persevere
That when we live no more, we may live ever

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