by: Anne Bradstreet (c.1612-1672)
POEMS BY ANNE BRADSTREET
- Y memory
is short, and braine is dry.
- My Almond-tree (gray haires) doth flourish now,
- And back, once straight, begins apace to bow.
- My grinders now are few, my sight doth faile
- My skin is wrinkled, and my cheeks are pale.
- No more rejoyce, at musickes pleasant noyse.