Wisdom with an inheritance is good, but wisdom without an inheritance is better than an inheritance without wisdom.
Anne BradstreetTags: wisdom
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."
[Meditations Divine and Moral]
Tags: life inspirational winter seasons adversity spring appreciation hardship prosperity
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 recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold repay,
Then while we live, in love let's so persevere
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
Tags: love
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
Anne BradstreetThat when we live no more, We may live ever
Anne BradstreetTags: religious poetry-love-spirituality
Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.
Anne BradstreetI am obnoxious to each carping tongue/ Who says my hand a needle better fits./ A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong/ For such despite they cast on female wits;/ If what I do prove well, it won't advance,/ They'll say it's stolen, or else, it was by chance.
Anne BradstreetTags: poetry feminism pen needle obnoxious
Authority without wisdom is like a heavy axe without an edge, fitter to bruise than polish.
Anne BradstreetTags: wisdom oppression force authority brute-force
The Author To Her Book
Thou ill-formed 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 exposed 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,
The visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I washed 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 may'st thou roam.
In critic's 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 caused her thus to send thee out of door.
Tags: books poetry writing criticism perfection craft authorship publication composition
There is no object that we see, no action that we do, no good that we enjoy, no evil that we feel of fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all.
Anne BradstreetTags: spiritual-life
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