If ever two were one, then surely we.

To My Dear and Loving Husband
by Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Anne Bradstreet, 1612-1672, 'an educated English woman, a loving wife, devoted mother, Empress Consort of Massachusetts, a questing Puritan and a sensitive poet.' Well, yes. And mother of eight. Emigrant across the oceans in a vessel not much bigger than a school bus. Pioneer. Poet. Woof.