The Sonnets XC - Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now
By William Shakespeare
Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath scapd this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquerd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposd overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortunes might;
And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
Compard with loss of thee, will not seem so.