"Verses upon the Burning of our House" was written by the Puritan poet Anne Bradstreet in response to the real-life destruction of her home in Andover, Massachusetts, which burned to the ground in 1666. The speaker, generally taken as Bradstreet herself, grieves the loss her home and all her material possessions, but also argues that this tragedy was God's way of teaching her a spiritual lesson about the value of piety and faith. The speaker takes comfort in the belief that no amount of earthly "wealth" comes close to the spiritual wealth that awaits the faithful in the afterlife—where God, "that mighty Architect," has built a heavenly home furnished with "glory."
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1In silent night when rest I took,
2For sorrow near I did not look,
3I waken'd was with thund'ring noise
4And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
5That fearful sound of "fire" and "fire,"
6Let no man know is my Desire.
7I starting up, the light did spy,
8And to my God my heart did cry
9To straighten me in my Distress
10And not to leave me succourless.
11Then coming out, behold a space
12The flame consume my dwelling place.
13And when I could no longer look,
14I blest his grace that gave and took,
15That laid my goods now in the dust.
16Yea, so it was, and so 'twas just.
17It was his own; it was not mine.
18Far be it that I should repine,
19He might of all justly bereft
20But yet sufficient for us left.
21When by the Ruins oft I past
22My sorrowing eyes aside did cast
23And here and there the places spy
24Where oft I sate and long did lie.
25Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest,
26There lay that store I counted best,
27My pleasant things in ashes lie
28And them behold no more shall I.
29Under the roof no guest shall sit,
30Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
31No pleasant talk shall e'er be told
32Nor things recounted done of old.
33No Candle e'er shall shine in Thee,
34Nor bridegroom's voice e'er heard shall be.
35In silence ever shalt thou lie.
36Adieu, Adieu, All's Vanity.
37Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide:
38And did thy wealth on earth abide,
39Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
40The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
41Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
42That dunghill mists away may fly.
43Thou hast a house on high erect
44Fram'd by that mighty Architect,
45With glory richly furnished
46Stands permanent, though this be fled.
47It's purchased and paid for too
48By him who hath enough to do.
49A price so vast as is unknown,
50Yet by his gift is made thine own.
51There's wealth enough; I need no more.
52Farewell, my pelf; farewell, my store.
53The world no longer let me love;
54My hope and Treasure lies above.
1In silent night when rest I took,
2For sorrow near I did not look,
3I waken'd was with thund'ring noise
4And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
5That fearful sound of "fire" and "fire,"
6Let no man know is my Desire.
7I starting up, the light did spy,
8And to my God my heart did cry
9To straighten me in my Distress
10And not to leave me succourless.
11Then coming out, behold a space
12The flame consume my dwelling place.
13And when I could no longer look,
14I blest his grace that gave and took,
15That laid my goods now in the dust.
16Yea, so it was, and so 'twas just.
17It was his own; it was not mine.
18Far be it that I should repine,
19He might of all justly bereft
20But yet sufficient for us left.
21When by the Ruins oft I past
22My sorrowing eyes aside did cast
23And here and there the places spy
24Where oft I sate and long did lie.
25Here stood that Trunk, and there that chest,
26There lay that store I counted best,
27My pleasant things in ashes lie
28And them behold no more shall I.
29Under the roof no guest shall sit,
30Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
31No pleasant talk shall e'er be told
32Nor things recounted done of old.
33No Candle e'er shall shine in Thee,
34Nor bridegroom's voice e'er heard shall be.
35In silence ever shalt thou lie.
36Adieu, Adieu, All's Vanity.
37Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide:
38And did thy wealth on earth abide,
39Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
40The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
41Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
42That dunghill mists away may fly.
43Thou hast a house on high erect
44Fram'd by that mighty Architect,
45With glory richly furnished
46Stands permanent, though this be fled.
47It's purchased and paid for too
48By him who hath enough to do.
49A price so vast as is unknown,
50Yet by his gift is made thine own.
51There's wealth enough; I need no more.
52Farewell, my pelf; farewell, my store.
53The world no longer let me love;
54My hope and Treasure lies above.
In silent night when rest I took,
For sorrow near I did not look,
I waken'd was with thund'ring noise
And piteous shrieks of dreadful voice.
That fearful sound of "fire" and "fire,"
Let no man know is my Desire.
I starting up, the light did spy,
And to my God my heart did cry
To straighten me in my Distress
And not to leave me succourless.
Then coming out, behold a space
The flame consume my dwelling place.
And when I could no longer look,
I blest his grace that gave and took,
That laid my goods now in the dust.
Yea, so it was, and so 'twas 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 sate 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 the roof no guest shall sit,
Nor at thy Table eat a bit.
No pleasant talk shall 'ere be told
Nor things recounted done of old.
No Candle 'ere shall shine in Thee,
Nor bridegroom's voice ere heard shall bee.
In silence ever shalt thou lie.
Adieu, Adieu, All's Vanity.
Then straight I 'gin my heart to chide:
And did thy wealth on earth abide,
Didst fix thy hope on mouldring dust,
The arm of flesh didst make thy trust?
Raise up thy thoughts above the sky
That dunghill mists away may fly.
Thou hast a house on high erect
Fram'd by that mighty Architect,
With glory richly furnished
Stands permanent, though this be fled.
It's purchased 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.
There's 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.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
America's First Poet — An NPR piece about the life and work of Anne Bradstreet.
Homage to Mistress Bradstreet — A poetic tribute to Anne Bradstreet by the Pulitzer-winning poet John Berryman.
Searching for Bradstreet's House — An article about the search for the location of Bradstreet's Andover home.
The Puritan Experience — Learn more about Bradstreet's faith.
Bradstreet's Life Story — Check out a more in-depth biography of Bradstreet from the Poetry Foundation.