Can I go forward when my heart is here?
O God of battles! steel my soldiers’ hearts. Possess them not with fear.
The weariest and most loathed worldly life, that age, ache, penury and imprisonment can lay on nature is a paradise, to what we fear of death.
Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.
They whose guilt within their bosom lies, imagine every eye beholds their blame.
My age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.