To my Dear and loving Husband.

IF ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee,

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me ye women if you can.

I prize thy love more then whole Mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold,

My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.

Thy love is such I can no way repay,

The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.

Then while we live, in love lets so persever,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Today's poem of the day comes from the work of Anne Bradstreet, a 17th century English poet. Bradstreet was born in England, but moved to America when she was 18 years old. In 1650, when she was 38, Bradstreet became the first female poet published in both England and the America, as well America's first published poet more generally.

Though she suffered poor health at multiple points in her life, Bradstreet acquired a compelling education, probably at least partly due to the academic leanings of her father and husband. She wrote prolifically on a number of topics, but many of these manuscripts were lost when the Bradstreet family home tragically burned down in the late 1660s. Bradstreet worked to challenge the traditional view of women during her life, and wrote knowledgeably and passionately about her chosen topics, which included politics, medicine, theology and history.

She passed away at age 60 from tuberculosis, leaving behind husband Simon, and her eight children