Anne Bradstreet

(1612 – 16 September 1672 / Northampton, England)

Here Follow Several Occasional Meditations - Poem by Anne Bradstreet

By night when others soundly slept,
And had at once both case 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 bowed His ear down from above.
In vain I did not seek or cry.

My hungry soul He filled with good,
He in His bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washed in His blood,
And banished thence my doubts and fears.

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


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Read poems about / on: night, love, smart, fear, sleep



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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