Tags
Anne Bradstreet, healing, Literature, literature, poem, Poetry, Praise, praise, Puritan, Puritan Poetry, thankfulness, Thankfulness, When Fears and Sorrows Me Beset
This poem is prefaced, “For the restoration of my dear husband from a burning ague, June, 1661”
When fears and sorrows me beset
Then did’st thou rid me out
When heart did faint and spirits quail,
Thou comforts me about.
Thou rais’st him up, I feared to lose,
Regav’st him again:
Distempers thou didst chase away;
With strength didst him sustain.
My thankful heart, with pen record
The goodness of thy God;
Let thy obedience testify
He taught thee by his rod.
And with his staff did thee support,
That thou by both may’st learn;
And ‘twixt the good and evil way,
At last, thou migh’st discern.
Praises to him who hath not left
My soul as destitute;
Nor turned his ear away from me,
But granted hath my suit.