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Anne Bradstreet - On My Son`s Return Out Of England, July 17, 1661.
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All Praise to him who hath now turn`d
My feares to Joyes, my sighes to song,
My Teares to smiles, my sad to glad:
He`s come for whom I waited long.
Thou di`st preserve him as he went;
In raging stormes did`st safely keep:
Did`st that ship bring to quiet Port.
The other sank low in the Deep.
From Dangers great thou did`st him free
Of Pyrates who were neer at hand;
And order`st so the adverse wind,
That he before them gott to Land.
In covntry strange thou did`st provide,
And freinds rais`d him in euery Place;
And courtesies of svndry sorts
From such as `fore nere saw his face.
In sicknes when he lay full sore,
His help and his Physitian wer`t;
When royall ones that Time did dye,
Thou heal`dst his flesh, and cheer`d his heart.
From troubles and Incúbers Thov,
Without (all fraud), did`st sett him free,
That, without scandall, he might come
To th`Land of his Nativity.
On Eagles wings him hether brovght
Thro: Want and Dangers manifold;
And thvs hath gravnted my Reqvest,
That I thy Mercyes might behold.
O help me pay my Vowes, O Lord!
That ever I may thankfull bee,
And may putt him in mind of what
Tho`st done for him, and so for me.
In both our hearts erect a frame
Of Duty and of Thankfullnes,
That all thy favours great receiv`d,
Oure vpright walking may expresse.
O Lord, gravnt that I may never forgett thy Loving kindnes in this Particular, and how gratiovsly thov hast answered my Desires.
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