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 recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love lets so persevere,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
-Anne Bradstreet 1650
You wage love’s most courageous fights.
And so, dear nurse, you make us see,
The touch of grace in humanity.
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