Worthy art Thou, O Lord, of praise, 
But ah! It's not in me. 
My sinking heart I pray Thee raise 
So shall I give it Thee.

My life as spider's webb's cut off, 
Thus fainting have I said, 
And living man no more shall see 
But be in silence laid.

My feeble spirit Thou didst revive, 
My doubting Thou didst chide, 
And though as dead mad'st me alive, 
I here a while might 'bide.

Why should I live but to Thy praise? 
My life is hid with Thee. 
O Lord, no longer be my days 
Than I may fruitful be.

Added: Mar 14 2005 | Viewed: 1346 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Anne Bradstreet
Poem: Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting
Poem of the Day: Jun 23 2005
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Deliverance from a Fit of Fainting, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Anne Bradstreet with others on the American Poems poetry forum!