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Poem by Anne Bradstreet To Her Most Honoured Father Thomas Dudley Esq; These Humbly Presented Dear Sir of late delighted with the sight Of your four Sisters cloth'd in black and white, Of fairer Dames the Sun, ne'r saw the face; Though made a pedestal for Adams Race; Their worth so shines in these rich lines you show Their paralels to finde I scarcely know To climbe their Climes, I have nor strength nor skill To mount so high requires an Eagles quill; Yet view thereof did cause my thoughts to soar; My lowly pen might wait upon these four I bring my four times four, now meanly clad To do their homage, unto yours, full glad: Who for their Age, their worth and quality Might seem of yours to claim precedency: But by my humble hand, thus rudely pen'd They are, your bounden handmaids to attend These same are they, from whom we being have These are of all, the Life, the Nurse, the Grave, These are the hot, the cold, the moist, the dry, That sink, that swim, that fill, that upwards fly, Of these consists our bodies, Cloathes and Food, The World, the useful, hurtful, and the good, Sweet harmony they keep, yet jar oft times Their discord doth appear, by these harsh rimes Yours did contest for wealth, for Arts, for Age, My first do shew their good, and then their rage. My other foures do intermixed tell Each others faults, and where themselves excell; How hot and dry contend with moist and cold, How Air and Earth no correspondence hold, And yet in equal tempers, how they 'gree How divers natures make one Unity Something of all (though mean) I did intend But fear'd you'ld judge Du Bartas was my friend I honour him, but dare not wear his wealth My goods are true (though poor) I love no stealth But if I did I durst not send them you Who must reward a Thief, but with his due. I shall not need, mine innocence to clear These ragged lines, will do't, when they appear: On what they are, your mild aspect I crave Accept my best, my worst vouchsafe a Grave. From her that to your self, more duty owes Then water in the boundess Ocean flows. Anne Bradstreet Anne Bradstreet's other poems:
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