Ive included the full text of the poem as headspring as my explication of it. Enjoy!
The writer to Her Book
by Anne Bradstreet
Thou ill-formd take awayspring of my feeble brain,
Who subsequently birth didst by my side remain,
Till snatcht from thence by friends, slight wise than true,
Who thee abroad exposd to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th bosom to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call.
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
Thy Visage was so irksome in my sight,
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I washd thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.
I stretcht thy joints to make thee hitherto feet,
Yet still grounds runst more hobbling than is meet.
In better dress to melt off thee was my mind,
But nought save home-spun Cloth, i th house I find.
In this array, mongst Vulgars mayst thou roam.
In Critics hands, bear in mind thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known.
If for thy Father askt, say, thou hadst none;
And for thy Mother, she unfortunately is poor,
Which causd her thus to send thee out of door.
Imperfections
        As shown in The Author to Her Book by Anne Bradstreet, perfectionism is not a new phenomenon. The speaker unit of the poem uses diction, imagery, and tone to display her insecurities about, and dislike of, her own work, resulting from the forgiving imperfections that have created an inadequate piece of literature.
        The choice of words in this poem reveals that while admitting a close and intimate kin with it,
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