There did I finde mine onely faithfull frend In heauy plight and sad perplexitie; Whereof I sorie, yet my selfe did bend, Him to recomfort with my co… - Edmund Spenser

He oft finds med'cine, who his griefe imparts;
But double griefs afflict concealing harts,
As raging flames who striveth to supresse.

But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.

And as she lookt about, she did behold, How over that same dore was likewise writ, Be bold, be bold, and every where Be bold, That much she muz'd, yet could not construe it By any ridling skill, or commune wit. At last she spyde at that same roomes upper end, Another yron dore, on which was writ, Be not too bold.