Younger than Donne and Herbert older than
Marvell at least as more American
Than Edward Taylor exiled from the heart
As more for living there with whom an art
Appeared as first the sky with the first bird
Appeared but as the mind with the first word
As more for living in the hearts of still
Americans who any moment will
Remember they have hearts and find you there
Anne Bradstreet you who crossed the sea on air
As sure as sky is air who rode across
The sea on top of the sea’s sky the loss
Of England was a mighty thing and bitter
And lost for what for freedom free bones litter
The chained Atlantic all bound free in death
And died in your long wake both cow and calf
The meat and company both die together
As with the beasts by which we live it ever
Has been they die and swim forever to
America their souls belong to you
If creatures that do not have souls have souls
Or to the man whose name was on the rolls
Your father or your husband but your father
Whichever name it was it was a bother
-some business fleeing the king to embrace the King
In Massachusetts you found everything
Unclothed that had been dressed in streets and bricks
Houses that were not wishes merely sticks
Your father doubtful of the English neighbors
The heaviness of the self-estranging labors
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