On Monsieur's Departure
By Elizabeth I
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 supprest.
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 ere meant.
I was thinking about Elizabeth I yesterday because of Shakespeare -- there's a Shakespeare birthday party at the Folger this weekend, and I would love to go and bring my kids, but if I were going downtown, it would be to the march. And claustrophobia prevents me from dealing with the Metro to get downtown, and there is going to be nowhere to park within four miles. I wish I could send a cardboard standee to march for me...I paid my Planned Parenthood and ACLU dues this month, is that doing enough?
Today we are going to Maryland Day at the University of Maryland. I haven't been to campus since Maryland Day last year so this ought to be fun. Tonight we are going to an extended family birthday party that I am SO not in the mood for and we've been left out of the loop on the group present but what the hell, it's family. Am urgently trying to fit
Jack and Stephen, weevil-watching. See how Stephen looks all focused and Jack looks all...naughty? *writhes in helpless glee*