By Anne Bradstreet (1612--1672)
By night when others soundly slept
And hath at once both ease and Rest,
My waking eyes were open kept
And so to lie I found it best.
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I sought him whom my Soul did Love,
With tears I sought him earnestly.
He bow'd his ear down from Above.
8In vain I did not seek or cry.
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My hungry Soul he fill'd with Good;
He in his Bottle put my tears,
My smarting wounds washt in his blood,
And banisht thence my Doubts and fears.
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What to my Saviour shall I give
Who freely hath done this for me?
I'll serve him here whilst I shall live
And Loue him to Eternity.
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