In Memory of My Dear Grandchild
Anne Bradstreet
Who Deceased June 20, 1669

With troubled heart and trembling hand I write,
The heavens have changed to sorrow my delight,
How oft with disappointment have I met,
When I on fading things my hopes have set?
I knew she was but as a withering flower,
That’s here today, perhaps gone in an hour;
Like as a bubble, or the brittle glass,
Or like a shadow turning as it was,
Farewell dear child, thou ne’er shall come to me,
But yet a while, and I shall go to thee.


~ Anne Bradstreet ~