GRACE

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**Her Life: Anne Bradstreet was an American Puritan writer whos work has been cherished by many. She was the first women poet to be published in Colonial America which was not an easy task.  She was a well educated women for her time, and lived a very culturally sheltered lifestyle. She was a devout Christian and loving wife. Throughout her life she had eight children. Bradstreet is important for American Literature but also** **American femenism. She often put her fears aside with her works, but never strayed away from her beliefs. She is often reffered to as America's first feminist.** =====

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**Her Works: Anne Bradstreets poems were simple but had great meaning. She knew how to write in a way that would let her works be published even though she was a women. Her poetry shows readers that she was devoted to her husband, relgion, and children. ** =====


Many of Anne Bradstreets poems show her true character. Her poem, "A Letter to Her Husband, Absent Upon Public Employment" shows readers that she takes her marriage vows to her husband very seriously. Without being too dramatic Bradstreet lets readers know how much she truely loves her husband.

A Letter to Her Husband, Absent Upon Public Employment
by Anne Bradstreet My head, my heart, mine Eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my Magazine of earthly store, It two be one, as surely thou and I, media type="youtube" key="qzF87zDXlUQ" height="408" width="433" align="right"How stayest thou there, whilst I at //Ipswich// lye? So many steps, head from the heart to sever If but a neck, soon should we be together: I like the earth this season, mourn in black, My Sun is gone so far in’s Zodiack, Whom whilst I ‘joy’d, nor storms, nor frosts I felt, His warmth such frigid colds did cause to melt. My chilled limbs now nummed lye forlorn; Return, return sweet //Sol// from //Capricorn//; In this dead time, alas, what can I more Than view those fruits which through thy heat I bore? Which sweet contentment yield me for a space, True living Pictures of their Fathers face. O strange effect! now thou art //Southward// gone, I weary grow, the tedious day so long; But when thou //Northward// to me shalt return, I wish my Sun may never set, but burn Within the Cancer of my glowing breast, The welcome house of him my dearest guest. Where ever, ever stay, and go not thence, Till natures sad decree shall call thee hence; Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, I here, thou there, yet both but one.

What strikes me most about this poem is her directness and honesty about her love for her husband. Bradstreet tells the readers how she feels, but still leaves a bit of curiosity for us to ponde r. The most important thing about this poem is that it was writen in the early Colonial age when times were tough. When I read this poem I can feel her love toward her husband. I understand that she was one with her husband by her language. Bradstreet uses some metephores in the work. She refers to herself as the earth and her husband as sun. To me this metaphore means that she cannot function properly without him.

**"Before the Birth of One of her Children"**

All things within this fading world hath end, Adversity doth still our joys attend; No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet, But with death's parting blow are sure to meet. The sentence past is most irrevocable, A common thing, yet oh, inevitable. How soon, my Dear, death may my steps attend, How soon't may be thy lot to lose thy friend, We both are ignorant, yet love bids me These farewell lines to recommend to thee, That when the knot's untied that made us one, I may seem thine, who in effect am none. And if I see not half my days that's due, What nature would, God grant to yours and you; The many faults that well you know I have Let be interred in my oblivious grave; If any worth or virtue were in me, Let that live freshly in thy memory And when thou feel'st no grief, as I no harmes, Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms, And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains Look to my little babes, my dear remains. And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me, These O protect from stepdame's injury. And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse, With some sad sighs honor my absent hearse; And kiss this paper for thy dear love's sake, Who with salt tears this last farewell did take

This poem is so real and beautifully written. It is very deep and rich in content. I think this poem shows real women in real life situations. It also realness of the problems she faces or will face. Bradstreet is writing about possibly dying in childbirth, and the fear that com along with it.I believe that Bradstreet is writing to her husband. The best thing about this poem is I think it embodies what a lot of expecting mothers go through today and will forever. This poem is relavant here in our day in age. Once again this poem focuses on her devotion to her husband and children. She writes about the world surrounding her and the real life scenerios in it. I believe this is what makes her poems so real even years later.

In silent night when rest I took For sorrow near I did not look I waked was with thund'ring noise media type="youtube" key="Cwirpqd1qxo" height="387" width="513" align="right" And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice. That fearful sound of "Fire!" and "Fire!" Let no man know is my desire. I, starting up, the light did spy, And to my God my heart did cry To strengthen me in my distress And not to leave me succorless. Then, coming out, beheld a space The flame consume my dwelling place. And when I could no longer look, I blest His name that gave and took, That laid my goods now in the dust. Yea, so it was, and so 'twas just. It was His own, it was not mine, Far be it that I should repine; He might of all justly bereft But yet sufficient for us left. When by the ruins oft I past My sorrowing eyes aside did cast, And here and there the places spy Where oft I sat and long did lie: Here stood that trunk, and there that chest, There lay that store I counted best. My pleasant things in ashes lie, And them behold no more shall I. Under thy roof no guest shall sit, Nor at thy table eat a bit. No pleasant tale shall e'er be told, Nor things recounted done of old. No candle e'er shall shine in thee, Nor bridegroom's voice e'er heard shall be. In silence ever shall thou lie, Adieu, Adieu, all's vanity. Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide, And did thy wealth on earth abide? Didst fix thy hope on mold'ring dust? The arm of flesh didst make thy trust? Raise up thy thoughts above the sky That dunghill mists away may fly. Thou hast an house on high erect, Framed by that mighty Architect, With glory richly furnished, Stands permanent though this be fled. It's purchased and paid for too By Him who hath enough to do. A price so vast as is unknown Yet by His gift is made thine own; There's wealth enough, I need no more, Farewell, my pelf, farewell my store. The world no longer let me love, My hope and treasure lies above.  This poem of Anne Bradstreet's is a perfect example of her devotion to her faith and Puritan writing. The whole poem is about her thoughts and feelings as she watches her house burn down. She writes in a way that makes readers feel like they are there. Also I felt that my possesions were being burned as a read this. This poem is so real and possionate. The poem rhymes which makes me feel somber, yet the poem is easy to read because it flows nicely. Bradstreet really gets the point across that God is in control and there is nothing he can't handel. Her faith is undeniable in this poem. Her focus is not on her possesions or money. Her real treasures are heaven, her family, and God.
 * Here Follows Some Verses upon the Burning of Our House, July, 10th, 1666 **

Emily Dickinson 1830- 1886 Emily Dickenson is reffered to as one of the greatest poets of all times. She still has much influence of many current poets today. Dickenson was born into a wealthy family, and had many opprotunities. She was well educated. She was a home-body and eventually locked herself away from society. She wore all white for reasons that are unknown. Her favorite writer was Shakespear. She was a highly abstract writer who wrote about her problems and the world around her. She only published about a dozen poems in her lifetime. Her poetry was very unconventional and widely debated over time. She died on May 15, 1886. 

<span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype','Book Antiqua',Palatino,serif; font-size: 120%;"> <span style="display: block; font-family: 'Palatino Linotype','Book Antiqua',Palatino,serif; font-size: 130%; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: 'Palatino Linotype','Book Antiqua',Palatino,serif; font-size: 120%;">124 [216] Safe in their alabaster chambers, Untouched by morning and untouched by noon, Sleep the meek members of the resurrection, Rafter of satin, and roof of stone. Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine; Babbles the bee in a stolid ear; Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence,-- Ah, what sagacity perished here! <span style="display: block; font-family: 'Palatino Linotype','Book Antiqua',Palatino,serif; font-size: 120%; text-align: center;">Grand go the years in the crescent above them; Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row, Diadems drop and Doges surrender, Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.

<span style="color: #800000; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 110%;">**I believe that Dickenson wrote alot of her poems with the fascination of death. Every word in this poem holds a differnet meaning. Thisis much different from Anne Bradstreet work. While Bradstreet wrote about her faith and the way the world was, Emily Dickinson wrote more about abstract things. Dickinson and Bradstreet both wrote about how they thought and saw the world through their own eyes. Dickinson's poetry include many unique features. She uses the dash, frequent capitalisation, multi-faceted imagery (wikipedia). In poem 124 [216] I think that she is talking about the safety of being sheltered. She is speaking about be untouched by the time of the day. This to me is almost talking about being in a mothers womb or a baby bird in its shell. This rings true in her life of seclusion.** media type="youtube" key="jQYzN2KTWVw" height="344" width="425" **This youtube video tells more about Dickinson's life.**

This was a Poet -- It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings -- And Attar so immense
 * 446 [448]

From the familiar species That perished by the Door -- We wonder it was not Ourselves Arrested it -- before --

Of Pictures, the Discloser -- The Poet -- it is He -- Entitles Us -- by Contrast -- To ceaseless Poverty --

Of portion -- so unconscious -- The Robbing -- could not harm -- Himself -- to Him -- a Fortune -- Exterior -- to Time --**

<span style="color: #800000; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 110%;">Emily Dickinson took herself very seriously as a poet. She may not have been recognized as a great poet by the world at this time, but she made her mark after her death. Although she was very sensative her works show us a solid woman with dreams. In my opinion I think she was somewhat crazy. He works reflect that with her strange metaphores. With this particular poem I think she is talking about true poetry. I believe that Dickinson thinks she can take readers to a new diminsion with her work. She seems to have a lot of outter body experiences within her poetry. She was an amzazing poet.