I am obnoxious to each carping tongue,
Who sayes my hand a needle better fits,
A poet’s pen, all scorne, I should thus wrong;
For such despight they cast on female wits:
If what I doe prove well, it won’t advance,
They’ll say it’s stolne, or else, it was by chance.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Anne Bradstreet (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.