English poem
In Memory Of My Dear Grand-Child Elizabeth Bradstreet, Who Deceased August, 1665, Being A Year And Half Old.
by Anne Bradstreet (1612–1672)
Farewel dear babe, my hearts too much content, Farewel sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye, Farewel fair flower that for a space was lent, Then ta'en away unto Eternity. Blest babe why should I once bewail thy fate, Or sigh the dayes so soon were terminate; Sith thou art setled in an Everlasting state. By nature Trees do rot when they are grown, And Plumbs and Apples throughly ripe do fall, And Corn and grass are in their season mown, And time brings down what is both strong and tall. But plants new set to be eradicate, And buds new blown to have so short a date, Is by his hand alone that guides nature and fate.
More by Anne Bradstreet
- Here Follow Several Occasional Meditations
- I cannot wonder at Apollo now
- In honour Of Du Bartas, 1641.
- In Honour of that High and Mighty Princess, Queen ELIZABETH
- In Memory Of My Dear Grandchild Anne Bradstreet, Who Deceased June 20, 1699, Being Three Years And Seven Months Old
- In Memory of My Dear Grandchild Elizabeth Bradstreet, Who Deceased August, 1665 Being a Year and a Half Old
- In My Solitary Hours in My Dear Husband his Absence
- In Reference to Her Children