William Shakespeare
Those lips that Love’s own hand did make
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 used in giving gentle doom
And taught it thus anew to greet:
'I hate' she alter'd with an end
That follow'd 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.'