William Bradford Poems

Oh, poor Plymouth, how dost thou moan!
Thy children, all, are from thee gone;
And left thou art, in widow's state-
...

From my years young in days of youth,
God did make known to me his truth,
And call'd me from my native place
For to enjoy the means of grace
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Oh Boston, though thou now art grown
To be a great and wealthy town,
Yet I have seen thee a void place,
Shrubs and bushes covering thy face.
...

Oh, poor Plymouth, how dost thou moan!
Thy children, all, are from thee gone;
And left thou art, in widow's state-
...

Blessed Robinson hath run his race,
From earth to heaven is gone,
To be with Christ, in heavenly place,
The blessed saints among.
...