This Thought Is As A Death.

Out Of This Nettle - Danger - We Pluck This Flower - Safety.

Farewell, Fair Cruelty.

God's Will! My Liege, Would You And I Alone, Without More Help, Could Fight This Royal Battle!

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.