Her Mother's Epitaph <br /> <br />Here lies <br />A worthy matron of unspotted life, <br />A loving mother and obedient wife, <br />A friendly neighbor, pitiful to poor, <br />Whom oft she fed, and clothed with her store; <br />To servants wisely aweful, but yet kind, <br />And as they did, so they reward did find: <br />A true instructor of her family, <br />The which she ordered with dexterity, <br />The public meetings ever did frequent, <br />And in her closest constant hours she spent; <br />Religious in all her words and ways, <br />Preparing still for death, till end of days: <br />Of all her children, children lived to see, <br />Then dying, left a blessed memory. <br /> <br /> <br />Her Father's Epitaph <br /> <br />Within this tomb a patriot lies <br />That was both pious, just and wise, <br />To truth a shield, to right a wall, <br />To sectaries a whip and maul, <br />A magazine of history, <br />A prizer of good company <br />In manners pleasant and severe <br />The good him loved, the bad did fear, <br />And when his time with years was spent <br />In some rejoiced, more did lament. <br />1653, age 77<br /><br />Anne Bradstreet<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/epitaphs/
