Anne Bradstreet(ea. 1612–1672)
To My Dear and Loving Husband
If ever two were o n e , t h e n surely we.
If ever m a n were loved by wife, t h e n thee;
If ever w i f e was happy in a m a n ,
C o m p a r e w i t h m e y e w o m e n i f you can.
I prize thy love m o r e t h a n w h o l e m i n e s of gold,
Or all the riches that t h e East d o t h hold.
My love is s u c h that rivers c a n n o t q u e n c h ,
N o r o u g h t but love f r o m t h e e give r e c o m p e n s e .
T h y love is s u c h I c a n no way repay;
T h e h e a v e n s reward t h e e m a n i f o l d , I pray.
T h e n while we live, in love let's so persever,
That w h e n w e live n o m o r e w e may live ever.