The Poetry Corner

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.