<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345152" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Author to her Book, The</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,<br>Who after birth did'st by my side remain,<br>Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true,<br>Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,<br>Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,<br>Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).<br>At thy return my blushing was not small,<br>My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.<br>I cast thee by as one unfit for light,<br>Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,<br>Yet being mine own, at length affection would<br>Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.<br>I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,<br>And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.<br>I stretcht thy joints to make thee even feet,<br>Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet.<br>In better dress to trim thee was my mind,<br>But nought save home-spun Cloth, i' th' house I find.<br>In this array, 'mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam.<br>In Critics' hands, beware thou dost not come,<br>And take thy way where yet thou art not known.<br>If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none;<br>And for thy Mother, she alas is poor,<br>Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Bradstreet">Anne Bradstreet</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345152" data-title="Author to her Book, The de Anne Bradstreet" data-description="Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did'st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad expos'd to public view, Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge, Where erro..."></div> </div> </div>

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