Selected Works
The doubt of future foes
by Elizabeth I
The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,
And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy.
For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb,
Which would not be, if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web.
But clouds of joys untried do cloak aspiring minds
Which turn to rain of late repent, by changéd course of winds.
The top of hope supposed, the root of root will be,
And fruitless all their grafféd guile, as shortly ye shall see.
The dazzled eyes with pride, which great ambition blinds,
Shall be unsealed by worthy wights whose foresight falsehood finds.
The daughter of debate, that eke discord doth sow
Shall reap no gain where former rule hath taught still peace to grow.
No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port;
Our realm it brooks no stranger's force, let them elsewhere resort.
My rusty sword with rest, shall first his edge employ
To poll their tops that seek such change and gape for future joy.
c. 1558
Source: Norton Anthology of English Literature, 7th edition, volume 1
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 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 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.
c. 1582
Source:Norton Anthology of English Literature, 7th edition, volume 1
Song on the Armada Victory, December 1566
Look and bow down Thine ear, O Lord.
From Thy bright sphere behold and see
Thy handmaid and Thy handiwork,
Amongst Thy priests, offering to Thee
Zeal for incense, reaching the skies;
Myself and scepter, sacrifice.
My soul, ascend His holy place.
Ascribe Him strength and sing Him praise,
For He refraineth princes' sprites
And hath done wonders in my days.
He made the winds and waters rise
To scatter all mine enemies--
This Joseph's Lord and Israel's God,
The fiery Pillar and day's Cloud,
That saved his saints from wicked men
And drenched the honor of the proud;
And hath preserved in tender love
The spirit of his turtle dove.
Source: Elizabeth I: Collected Works, ed. Leah S. Marcus, Janel Mueller, and Mary Beth Rose
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