Read the poem.
Upon the Burning of Our House
by Anne Bradstreet
In silent night...
English, 18.08.2021 22:00 garcser257278
Read the poem.
Upon the Burning of Our House
by Anne Bradstreet
In silent night when rest I took
For sorrow near I did not look
I wakened was with thundâring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of âFire!â and âFire!â
Let no man know is my desire.
I, starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To strengthen me in my distress
And not to leave me succorless.
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 laid my goods now in the dust.
Yea, so it was, and so âtwas 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 ruins oft I past
My sorrowing eyes aside did cast,
And here and there the places spy
Where oft I sat and long did lie:
Here stood that trunk, and there that chest,
There lay that store I counted best.
My pleasant things in ashes lie,
And them behold no more shall I.
Under thy roof no guest shall sit,
Nor at thy table eat a bit.
No pleasant tale shall eâer be told,
Nor things recounted done of old.
No candle eâer shall shine in thee,
Nor bridegroomâs voice eâer heard shall be.
In silence ever shall thou lie,
Adieu, Adieu, allâs vanity.
Then straight I âgin my heart to chide,
And did thy wealth on earth abide?
Didst fix thy hope on mouldâring dust?
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast an house on high erect,
Framed by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished,
Stands permanent though this be fled.
Itâs purchasĂ©d and paid for too
By Him who hath enough to do.
A price so vast as is unknown
Yet by His gift is made thine own;
Thereâs wealth enough, I need no more,
Farewell, my pelf, farewell, my store.
The world no longer let me love,
My hope and treasure lies above.
In âUpon the Burning of Our House,â Bradstreet explains the loss of her house is a part of Godâs plan.
Which lines from the poem best convey this thought?
A. âYea, so it was, and so âtwas just. / It was His own, it was not mineâ
B. âUnder thy roof no guest shall sit, / Nor at thy table eat a bit.â
C. âAnd to my God my heart did cry / To strengthen me in my distressâ
D. âRaise up thy thoughts above the sky / That dunghill mists away may fly.â
Answers: 3
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