The Name Of A Successor Is Like

A Strength To Harm Is Perilous In The Hand Of An Ambitious Head.

It Is Hard To Find Beauty In The Art Of Self Expression.

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 Pluck Up The Good Lissome Herbs Of Sentences By Pruning, Eat Them By Reading, Digest Them By Musing, And Lay Them Up At Length In The High Seat Of Memory.

I Do Not So Much Rejoice That God Hath Made Me To Be A Queen, As To Be A Queen Over So Thankful A People. Therefore I Have Cause To Wish Nothing More Than To Content The Subject And That Is A Duty Which I Owe. Neither Do I Desire To Live Longer Days Than I May See Your Prosperity And That Is My Only Desire.