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My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.

Anne Bradstreet

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Anne Bradstreet
Age: 60 †
Born: 1612
Born: March 20
Died: 1672
Died: September 16
Poet
Writer
Ann Dudley
Ann Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley Bradstreet
Anne Dudley
Near
Spent
Sing
Age
Time
Lament

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I happy am, if well with you.
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The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection.
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Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, I here, though there, yet both but one.
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My love is such that Rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence. Thy love is such I can no way repay, The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
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If what I do prove well, it won't advance. They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.
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Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending.
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Satan, that great angler, hath his sundry baits for sundry tempers of men, which they all catch greedily at, but few perceive the hook till it be too late.
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If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
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Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure/A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.
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Some laborers have hard hands, and old sinners have brawny consciences.
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We must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above.
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If we had not winter, the spring would not be so pleasant if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.
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A prosperous state makes a secure Christian, but adversity makes him Consider.
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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.
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There is no object that we see no action that we do no good that we enjoy no evil that we feel, or fear, but we may make some spiritual advantage of all: and he that makes such improvement is wise, as well as pious.
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It is reported of the peacock that priding himself in his gay feathers he ruffles them up but spying his black feet he soon lets fall his plumes. So he that glories in his gifts and adornings should look upon his corruptions, and that will damp his high thoughts.
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Iron till it be thoroughly heated is incapable to be wrought so God sees good to cast some men into the furnace of affliction, and then beats them on His anvil into what frame He desires.
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If ever wife was happy in a man, compare with me, ye women if you can.
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I 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.
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Sin and shame ever go together he that would be freed from the last must be sure to shun the company of the first.
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