Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/238

 152 Anne Bradstreet's Works.

Oft stubborn, peevish, sullen, pout and cry,

Then nought can please, and yet I know not why.

As many are '' my sins, so dangers too ;

For sin brings sorrow, sickness death and woe:

And though I miss the tossings of the mind,

Yet griefs in my frail flesh I still do find.

What gripes of wind mine infancy did pain, [48]

What tortures I in breeding teeth sustain?

What crudityes my stomack cold hath bred.

Whence vomits, flux and worms have issued?

What breaches, knocks and falls I daily have,

And some perhaps I carry to my grave.

Sometimes in fire, sometimes in water fall,

Strangly presev'd, yet mind it not at all:

At home, abroad my dangers manifold.

That wonder tis, my glass till now doth hold.

I've done; unto my elders I give way,

For tis but little that a child can say.

Youth.

MY goodly cloathing, and my beauteous skin

Declare some greater riches are within: But what is best I'le first present to view. And then the worst in a more ugly hue:

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