To My Dear and Loving Husband
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 persever, That when we live no more, we may live ever.
The Complete Works of Anne Bradstreet (1981, Twayne Publishers)
I love her work - one of the main characters in my novel in progress is a poet, and the name of the book is taken from Bradstreet. Thank you for sharing her poem.
Sweet as heck. I do wish the venerable Mrs, Bradstreet hadn't written "I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold." Whole mines of gold sounds so sweaty and LABORIOUS.
And (no fault of Mrs. Bradstreet's) it feels too Trumpian these days (Trump has badly de-romanticised gold)