Anne Bradstreet Quotes

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue Who says my hand a needle better fits, A poet’s pen all scorn I should thus wrong For such despite they cast on female wits; If what I do prove well, it won’t advance, They’ll say it’s stolen, or else, it was by chance.

In Criticks hands, beware thou dost not come; And take thy way where yet thou art not known, If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none: And for thy Mother, she alas is poor, Which caus’d her thus to send thee out of door.