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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 to 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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Queen Elizabeth Tudor I
Read poems about / on: passion, hate, snow, sun, love
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| Comments about this poem (ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by Queen Elizabeth Tudor I) |
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by Queen Elizabeth Tudor I)
Enoch John (6/18/2008 5:49:00 PM)
This conflict may have arisen, no doubt, because of her position as Queen. |
Greenwolfe 1962 (4/7/2008 5:10:00 PM)
This is actually quite revealing of who she is. She is
surely a ruler. For she knows her role and place above
all other things, even love. She is human, but is more
remarkable for it. The poem, well written, tells the
truth. History, and it, has not betrayed her. I pray
that mine, shall do the same.
Greenwolfe 1962 |
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Queen Elizabeth Tudor I
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