Some Gentler Passion

—Anonymous Photo

ON MONSIEUR’S DEPARTURE
—Elizabeth I (1533-1603)

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;


His too familiar care doth make me rue it.


No means I find to rid him from my breast,


Till by the end of things it be suppressed.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,


For I am soft and made of melting snow;


Or be more cruel, Love, and so be kind.


Let me or float or sink, be high or low;


Or let me live with some more sweet content,


Or die, and so forget what love e'er meant.

__________________

—Medusa

For more about Queen Elizabeth I and her writing, go to www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poets/detail/queen-elizabeth-i

 Carol Ann Duffy, Britain’s Current Poet Laureate 

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