Saturday, September 19, 2009

By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.

I sought Him whom my soul did love,
With tears I sought Him earnestly.
He bow'd His ear down from above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.

My hungry soul he fill'd with good;
He in His bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in His blood,
And banisht thence my doubts and fears.

What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve Him here whilst I shall live
And love Him to eternity.

-Ann Bradstreet

Ann Bradstreet is my new one-of-my-favorites poetess. Her works are much simpler than John Donne or Edward Taylor, (two contemporaries,) yet the same sweet love for God is still very much present in all her works, be it a lament for her fire-ravaged house, a tale of her children, a prayer before giving birth, or a poem about seeking and finding Christ. (above)

I was encouraged by her poems because, although she was busy, busy, busy all the time, raising her children, keeping her house, being a friend and helping her neighbors, in the midst of all we often consider "filler," her faith in God's providence and her love towards Christ shine like the sun. Her poems may center on common things, but, hey, common things are the bread of life, and I always need to be reminded to honor Christ with my life and heart, whether sitting outside in a warm breeze, reading Amy Carmichael, or cleaning the house and having children underfoot and noise bouncing off the wall.


Emily said...

I am totally surprised that you didn't know Anne Bradstreet! Did you read this one:

To My Dear and Loving Husband

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 in no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love lets so persevere,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

I really want her biography.


Katie said...

Well, I had heard of Ann Bradstreet, and had read her poem "An Author to Her Book," but that was all, and even that not very thorough.

Courtney said...

I was definitely about to post this very poem. I guess I won't after all...ha ha. It's a lovely poem. Anne Bradstreet is absolutely my new favorite poet.