The many faults that well you know I have,
Let be interred in my oblivious grave;
If any worth or virtue were in me,
Let that live freshly in thy memory,
And when thou feel'st no grief as I no harms,
Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms:
And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains
Look to my little babes my dear remains,
And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me,
These O protect from step-Dames injury.
And if chance to thine eyes shall bring this verse,
With some sad sighs honor my absent Herse;
And kiss this paper for thy love's dear sake
Who with salt tears this last farewell did take.
--_A. B._




CHAPTER V.

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW.


In spite of the fits of depression evident in most of the
quotations thus far given, there were many alleviations, as life
settled into more tolerable conditions, and one chief one was now
very near. Probably no event in the first years of Anne
Bradstreet's life in the little colony had as much significance
for her as the arrival at Boston in 1633, of the Rev. John Cotton,