As spring the winter doth succeed
The naked trees with leaves are dressed,
The blackened earth is clothed in green,
And all with brightening joy is blessed.
My Sun returns with healing wings,
My Soul and Body do rejoice;
My heart exalts and praises sings
To Him that heard my wailing voice.
My winters past, my storms are gone,
And former clouds seem now all fled;
But if they must eclipse again
I’ll run where I was succorèd.
I have a shelter from the storm,
A shadow from the fainting heat,
For I have access to His throne;
Who is a God so wondrous great?
O hast Thou made my pilgrimage
Thus pleasant, fair, so sweet and good;
Blessed me in youth and elder age
My Baca made a springing flood.
Studying, I ask, what I shall do
To show my duty with delight?
All I can give is but mine own
And at the most a simple mite.
Anne Bradstreet, 1657