Poem by Anne Bradstreet

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.

1. In Thankful Remembrance for My Dear Husband’s Safe Arrival
2. Meditations Divine and Moral
3. For the Restoration of My Dear Husband from a Burning Ague, June, 1661
4. Upon a Fit of Sickness
5. Upon Some Distemper of Body

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