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 '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!
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 Beautiful poem.
He transcends time and space with his writings- -I wonder if he had any idea that he would have such renown...
Woe and loss are well used to write this sonnet by Shakespeare based on his life experience in the world!
Simply superb poem penned by a great soul and equally great poet. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This sorrow! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.