1672
#Americans #Women
My thankfull heart with glorying… Shall celebrate thy Name, Who hath restor’d, redeem’d, recur… From sicknes, death, and Pain. I cry’d thov seem’st to make some…
O thou Most High who rulest all And hear’st the prayers of thine, O hearken, Lord, unto my suit And my petition sign. Into Thy everlasting arms Of merc…
In anguish of my heart replete wit… And wasting pains, which best my b… In tossing slumbers on my wakeful… Bedrenched with tears that flowed… Till nature had exhausted all her…
What shall I render to Thy name Or how Thy praises speak? My thanks how shall I testify? O Lord, Thou know’st I’m weak. I owe so much, so little can
As he said vanity, so vain say I, Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky; Where is the man can say, “Lo, I… On brittle earth a consolation sou… What isn’t in honor to be set on h…
Most truly honoured, and as truly… If worth in me or ought I do appe… Who can of right better demand the… Than may your worthy self from who… The principal might yield a greate…
As loving hind that (hartless) wan… Scuds through the woods and fern w… Perplext, in every bush and nook d… Her dearest deer, might answer ear… So doth my anxious soul, which now…
If ever two were one, then surely… If ever man were loved by wife, th… If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you… I prize thy love more than whole m…
A ship that bears much sail, and little ballast, is easily overset; and that man, whose head hath great abilities, and his heart little or no grace, is in danger of foundering. The fi...
Thou ill-form’d offspring of my fe… Who after birth didst by my side r… Till snatched from thence by frien… Who thee abroad, expos’d to public… Made thee in raggs, halting to th’…
I had eight birds hatcht in one ne… Four Cocks were there, and Hens t… I nurst them up with pain and care… No cost nor labour did I spare Till at the last they felt their w…
Be still, thou unregenerate part, Disturb no more my settled heart, For I have vow’d (and so will do) Thee as a foe still to pursue, And combat with thee will and must
And live I still to see Relations… And yet survive to sound this wail… Ah, woe is me, to write thy Funer… Who might in reason yet have lived… I saw the branches lopt the Tree…
Here lies A worthy matron of unspotted life, A loving mother and obedient wife, A friendly neighbor, pitiful to po… Whom oft she fed, and clothed with…
As weary pilgrim, now at rest, Hugs with delight his silent nest His wasted limbes, now lye full so… That myrie steps, haue troden oft Blesses himself, to think vpon