On Monsieur’s Departure - Queen Elizabeth I

On Monsieur’s Departure - Queen Elizabeth I

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,
follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
for I am soft and made of melting snow;
or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low;
or let me live with some more sweet content,
or die and so forget what love ere meant.


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