“I find no peace, and all my war is done,I fear and hope; I burn and freeze like ice;I fly above the wind yet can I not arise;And naught I have and all the world I seize on.That looseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison,And holdeth me not, yet can I scape nowise;Nor letteth me live nor die at my devise,And yet of death it giveth none occasion.Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain;I desire to perish, and yet I ask health;I love another, and thus I hate myself;I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain.Likewise displeaseth me both death and lifeAnd my delight is causer of this strife.”

“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.”

“When I lie waking all alone,Recounting what I have ill done,My thoughts on me then tyrannize,Fear and sorrow me surprise,Whether I tarry still or go,Methinks the time moves very slow,All my griefs to this are jolly,Naught so sad as melancholy.'Tis my sole plague to be alone,I am a beast, a monster grown,I will no light nor company,I find it now my misery.The scene is turn'd, my joys are gone,Fear, discontent, and sorrows come.All my griefs to this are folly,Naught so fierce as melancholy.”

“Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them. Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed. I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.”

“O Deus Ego Amo TeOh God, I love Thee mightily,Not only for Thy saving me, Nor yet because who love not TheeMust burn throughout eternity.Thou, Thou, my Jesu, once didst meEmbrace upon the bitter Tree.For me the nails, the soldier's spear, With injury and insult, bear-In pain all pain exceeding,In sweating and in bleeding,Yea, very death, and that for meA sinner all unheeding!O Jesu, should I not love TheeWho thus hast dealt so lovingly-Not hoping some reward to see,Nor lest I my damnation be;But as Thyself hast loved me,So love I now and always Thee,Because my King alone Thou art,Because, O God, mine own Thou art!”

“Wild dreams torment me as I lie. And though a god lives in my heart, though all my power waken at his word, though he can move my every inmost part - yet nothing in the outer world is stirred. thus by existence tortured and oppressed I crave for death, I long for rest.”