From all my kind: that for my sake
There should a miracle be wrought. 60
No! I do know that I was born
To age, misfortune, sickness, grief:
But I will bear these with that scorn,
As shall not need thy false relief.
Nor for my peace will I go far, 65
As wanderers do, that still do roam;
But make my strengths, such as they are,
Here in my bosom, and at home.