I Will Have Here But One Mistress

Where Might Is Mixed With Wit, There Is Too Good An Accord In A Government.

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.

I Will Have Here But One Mistress And No Master.

Mr. Doctor, That Loose Gown Becomes You So Well I Wonder Your Notions Should Be So Narrow.

I Do Not Choose That My Grave Should Be Dug While I Am Still Alive.