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Sonnet 145. Shakespeare

Those lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate',
To me that languish'd for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was us'd in giving gentle doom;
And taught it thus anew to greet;
'I hate' she alter'd 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 sav'd my life, saying 'not you'.

William Shakespeare, 1598

Sonnet 145. First edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, 1609.

Sonnet 145. First edition of Shakespeare's Sonnets, 1609.

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