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.
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. - Anne Bradstreet
If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
- Anne Bradstreet
The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection. - Anne Bradstreet
The spring is a lively emblem of the Resurrection.
The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above. - Anne Bradstreet
The world no longer lets me love, My hope and treasure are above.
My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent. - Anne Bradstreet
My age I will not once lament, / But sing, my time so near is spent.
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant. - Anne Bradstreet
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant.
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… - Anne Bradstreet
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…
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. - Anne Bradstreet
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.
Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending; a negligent youth is usually attended by an ignorant middle age, and … - Anne Bradstreet
Youth is the time of getting, middle age of improving, and old age of spending; a negligent youth is usually attended by an ignorant middle age, and …
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… - Anne Bradstreet
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…
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