Sonnet 145

　　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 fo