To My Dear and Loving Husband
—by Anne Bradstreet

If ever there were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, than surely 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 from 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 persevere
That when we live no more, we may live ever.