A Fool Too Late Bewares When All

[on Thomas Seymour's Death:] This Day Died A Man Of Much Wit And Very Little Judgment.

If Thy Heart Fails Thee, Climb Not At All.

Though God Hath Raised Me High, Yet This I Count The Glory Of My Crown: That I Have Reigned With Your Loves.

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.

Life Is For Living And Working At. If You Find Anything Or Anybody A Bore, The Fault Is In Yourself.