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Sonnet 90: Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now

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 'scaped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquered woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed 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 fortune's might,
    And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
    Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.

Added: 2 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 23 Apr 2018 7:44 AM | Viewed: 5033 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/995/ | Viewed on 23 April 2018.
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