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 'scoped 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY ON MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by WILLIAM BASSE NAPOLEON AND THE BRITISH [OR ENGLISH] SAILOR [BOY] by THOMAS CAMPBELL RICH DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE BIRD OF PARADISE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES INTELLECT by RALPH WALDO EMERSON NO LONGER COULD I DOUBT HIM TRUE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR AGAINST QUARRELLING AND FIGHTING by ISAAC WATTS |