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Won't you help support DayPoems? Sonnets xBy William Shakespeare1564-1616THEN 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 conquer'd 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! DayPoems Poem No. 155 Comment on DayPoems? If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback. Won't you help support DayPoems? Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . . Copyright The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2005 by Timothy K. Bovee. All rights reserved. The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors. |
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