Deliverance from Another Sore Fit
Anne Bradstreet 1612 (Northampton) – 1672 (Andover)
In my distress I sought the Lord
When naught on earth could comfort give,
And when my soul these things abhorred,
Then, Lord, Thou said'st unto me, "Live."
Thou knowest the sorrows that I felt;
My plaints and groans were heard of Thee,
And how in sweat I seemed to melt
Thou help'st and Thou regardest me.
My wasted flesh Thou didst restore,
My feeble loins didst gird with strength,
Yea, when I was most low and poor,
I said I shall praise Thee at length.
What shall I render to my God
For all His bounty showed to me?
Even for His mercies in His rod,
Where pity most of all I see.
My heart I wholly give to Thee;
O make it fruitful, faithful Lord.
My life shall dedicated be
To praise in thought, in deed, in word.
Thou know'st no life I did require
Longer than still Thy name to praise,
Nor ought on earth worthy desire,
In drawing out these wretched days.
Thy name and praise to celebrate,
O Lord, for aye is my request.
O grant I do it in this state,
And then with Thee, which is the best.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
- 1:00 min read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | AXAX BCBC XDXD ECEC CACX FGFG HIHI |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 996 |
Words | 198 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"Deliverance from Another Sore Fit" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 24 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/3083/deliverance-from-another-sore-fit>.
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