Of the many poems of Bradstreet to chose from, I chose "The Author to her Book", "By Night when Others Soundly Slept", and "To my Dear and Loving Husband" because of the interest I partook upon the purpose for the author's writing of these specific poems.
The Author to her Book
Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun Cloth, i' th' house I find.
In this array, 'mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam.
In Critics' hands, beware thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known.
If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none;
And for thy Mother, she alas is poor,
Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.
(http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/208.html)
By Night when Others Soundly Sleep
By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and Rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.
I sought him whom my Soul did Love,
With tears I sought him earnestly.
He bow'd his ear down from Above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.
My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good;
He in his Bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in his blood,
And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.
What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve him here whilst I shall live
And Loue him to Eternity.
(http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/209.html)
Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth did'st by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun Cloth, i' th' house I find.
In this array, 'mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam.
In Critics' hands, beware thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known.
If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none;
And for thy Mother, she alas is poor,
Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.
(http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/208.html)
By Night when Others Soundly Sleep
By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and Rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.
I sought him whom my Soul did Love,
With tears I sought him earnestly.
He bow'd his ear down from Above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.
My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good;
He in his Bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in his blood,
And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.
What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve him here whilst I shall live
And Loue him to Eternity.
(http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poem/209.html)
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 recompence.
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.
Reflection
Anne Bradstreet is a genius when it comes to poetry because she thinks in unusual ways to express something that she really believes in which gives her pieces a little more zest than some of the other poets exemplify in their own writing. Bradstreet, with the help of her passionately creative mind, exposed the hardships of women in the Puritan Era. She allowed her readers to have a view or insight of what women during this period of history had to accomplish in order to uphold a stable household environment. These women were truly amazing because, even though they were mistreated in ways, they persevered and stuck through it until they were able to overcome the sexism which is where we are today. After thoroughly reading over the poems of Bradstreet I began to discover the complexity of her writings and how she was able to incorporate such vast intellectual knowledge of the perception of women of the Puritan Era. However, not only did she fit so much knowledge into a scarce amount of words, but she also used words of great emotion which ultimately proves the unbelievable nature of Bradstreet’s creative mind.
Diary:
Dear Diary,
It is Uriah Thomas again and it is getting close to the time for everyone to be asleep but I recently read some of Anne Bradstreet's poems and just had to comment upon them. I found them so hypnotizing and just immediately fell in love with her poetry. She writes so fluently but the only thing I am worried about is that a women is trying to diturb the heirarchy upon which we live our code and this heirarchy should not be disturbed by some meager poem. but on the flipside maybe it should. Her poems expressed love in so many ways and showed how one is taken by love and how love is like a drug and once you have had it you want to keep getting it no matter what. The language used makes one attentive and I was completely stunned at the hidden messages beneath her deep writing. She is truly an artisan of her craft and speaks the truth through words. I agree with her in some points during her poems but in others I find things that I don't agree with. However, I enjoyed her works of literature and intend to keep an eye open for more of her fantastic writing.
Passion
Political Extension:
Essential Question Answer:
Refer to "Plymouth Plantation" Essential Question Answer.
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