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Upon The Burning Of Our House, July 10th, 1666

poem analysis for english
by whitley barnes on 30 October 2011

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Transcript of Upon The Burning Of Our House, July 10th, 1666



No pleasant tale shall 'ere be told,
Nor things recounted done of old.
No Candle 'ere shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom's voice ere heard shall bee.
In silence ever shalt thou lye;
Adieu, Adeiu; All's vanity. Upon The Burning Of Our House, July 10th, 1666
Published By: Anne Bradstreet Tragedy struck once more when one night the Bradstreet home was engulfed in flames, a devastating fire that left the family homeless and devoid of personal belongings. Anne was especially fond of poetry and over time would begin writing it herself, her works were kept private though as it was frowned upon for women to pursue intellectual enlightenment, let alone create and air their views and opinions.
However, Anne's work would not remain unnoticed. her brother-in-law, John Woolidge, would secretly copy her work and take it to England where he would have it published without her knowledge or permission.
Anne Bradstreet's health was slowly fading; she had been through many ailments and was now afflicted with tuberculosis. Shortly after contracting the disease, she lost her daughter Dorothy but her will was strong and she found solace in thinking of her in a better place. BIOGRAPHY

Born: Northampton, England in 1612
Daughter of Thomas Dudley and Dorothy Yorke
16, Anne married Simon Bradstreet and had 8 children
Anne and her family emigrated to America on the "Arabella" in 1630
A Prise so vast as is unknown,
Yet, by his Gift, is made thine own.
Ther's wealth enough, I need no more;
Farewell my Pelf, farewell my Store.
The world no longer let me Love,
My hope and Treasure lyes Above.
Thou hast an house on high erect
Fram'd by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent tho' this bee fled.
It's purchased, and paid for too
By him who hath enough to doe.
Then streight I gin my heart to chide,
And didst thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the skye
That dunghill mists away may flie. In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow neer I did not look,
I waken'd was with thundring nois
And Piteous shreiks of dreadfull voice.
That fearfull sound of fire and fire,
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spye,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my Distresse
And not to leave me succourlesse.
Then coming out beheld a space,
The flame consume my dwelling place.

And, when I could no longer look,
I blest his Name that gave and took,
That layd my goods now in the dust:
Yea so it was, and so 'twas just.
It was his own: it was not mine;
Far be it that I should repine.

He might of All justly bereft,
But yet sufficient for us left.
When by the Ruines oft I past,
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast,
And here and there the places spye
Where oft I sate, and long did lye.

Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest;
There lay that store I counted best:
My pleasant things in ashes lye,
And them behold no more shall I.
Under thy roof no guest shall sitt,
Nor at thy Table eat a bitt. THE POEM Bradstreet learns 3 valuable lessons when writing this poem The first lesson she learns is when she decides to thank God in the midst of her house burning. She explains that everything that
was on fire she did not actually own,
for they belonged to God; therefore,
she could not mourn the loss because
He had the right to take them away. Another lesson Bradstreet learns from the fire is earthly pleasures are fleeting. In stanzas 25-30 she learns
that material possessions are
easy to gain as well as loose. She continues to reminisce on the
things that might have taken place
in the house but will no longer since
it now consist of mainly ashes. Bradstreet's last lesson learned is that her
wealth does not come from the things she
gains on earth but her true wealth lies Heaven. She begins in stanzas 37-42 rebuking
her thoughts of what will no longer
take place in her ash filled home. Furthermore, Bradstreet gives her
depiction of the "Heavenly" place
in stanzas 43-48; which is built on
permanent grounds and consist of
expensive furniture all financed by God. In the last stanzas of the poem Bradstreet begins focusing on the place where wealth is defined. Bradstreet's strong Puritan background often influenced her writing, which is evident in this particular poem. Although she often questioned the harsh concept of a judgemental God, Bradstreet never doubted the actual existence of a higher being. Her acknowledgement of God throughout this poem shows her respect and devotion to her Puritan beliefs as well as her love of the spiritual world. In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow neer I did not look,
I waken'd was with thundring nois
And Piteous shreiks of dreadfull voice.
That fearfull sound of fire and fire,
Let no man know is my Desire.
I, starting up, the light did spye,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my Distresse
And not to leave me succourlesse.
Then coming out beheld a space,
The flame consume my dwelling place.

And, when I could no longer look,
I blest His Name that gave and took,
That layd my goods now in the dust:
Yea so it was, and so 'twas just.
It was his own: it was not mine;
Far be it that I should repine.

He might of All justly bereft,
But yet sufficient for us left.
When by the Ruines oft I past,
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast,
And here and there the places spye
Where oft I sate, and long did lye.

Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest;
There lay that store I counted best:
My pleasant things in ashes lye,
And them behold no more shall I.
Under thy roof no guest shall sitt,
Nor at thy Table eat a bitt.

No pleasant tale shall 'ere be told,
Nor things recounted done of old.
No Candle 'ere shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom's voice ere heard shall bee.
In silence ever shalt thou lye;
Adieu, Adeiu; All's vanity.

Then streight I gin my heart to chide,
And didst thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the skye
That dunghill mists away may flie.

Thou hast a house on high erect
Fram'd by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent tho' this bee fled.
It's purchased, and paid for too
By him who hath enough to doe.

A Prise so vast as is unknown,
Yet, by his Gift, is made thine own.
Ther's wealth enough, I need no more;
Farewell my Pelf, farewell my Store.
The world no longer let me Love,
My hope and Treasure lyes Above.
the rhyme scheme in this
poem is aa bb cc dd ee... slant rhyme slant rhyme slant rhyme Poem Analysis HISTORICAL AND CULTURAL CONTEXT prise: to obstract or botain with difficulty pelf: wealth or riches gin: a pump for a windmill
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