Elizabeth R1971

Queen Elizabeth I:
I grieve, and dare not show my discontent. I love, and yet I am forced to seem to hate. I do, yet dare not say I ever meant. I seem stark mute, but inwardly I do prate. I am, and not. I freeze, yet am burned since from myself my other self I turned. My care is like my shadow in the sun... follows me flying, flies when I pursue it. Stand and lies by me, doth what I have done. This too familiar care doth make me rue it, not means I find to rid him from my breast. Til, by the end of things, it be suppressed. O, let me live with some more sweet content. Or die, and so forget what love ere meant.