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 ...