Page 2091 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

145 IT

Those lips that Love’s own hand did make

Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’
To me that languished for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,

Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom:
And taught it thus anew to greet,
‘I hate’ she altered with an end,

That followed it as gentle day
Doth follow night who, like a fiend,
From heaven to hell is flown away.
‘I hate’ from hate away she threw,

And saved my life, saying ‘not you’.