Epitaphs

By Anne Bradstreet

Her Mother’s Epitaph

    Here lies
    A worthy matron of unspotted life,
    A loving mother and obedient wife,
    A friendly neighbor, pitiful to poor,
    Whom oft she fed, and clothed with her store;
    To servants wisely aweful, but yet kind,
    And as they did, so they reward did find:
    A true instructor of her family,
    The which she ordered with dexterity,
    The public meetings ever did frequent,
    And in her closest constant hours she spent;
    Religious in all her words and ways,
    Preparing still for death, till end of days:
    Of all her children, children lived to see,
    Then dying, left a blessed memory.


Her Father’s Epitaph

    Within this tomb a patriot lies
    That was both pious, just and wise,
    To truth a shield, to right a wall,
    To sectaries a whip and maul,
    A magazine of history,
    A prizer of good company
    In manners pleasant and severe
    The good him loved, the bad did fear,
    And when his time with years was spent
    In some rejoiced, more did lament.
    1653, age 77

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