Sonnet 145

1 Those lips that Love’s own hand did make,
2 Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’,
3 To me that languished for her sake:
4 But when she saw my woeful state,
5 Straight in her heart did mercy come,
6 Chiding that tongue that ever sweet,
7 Was used in giving gentle doom:
8 And taught it thus anew to greet:
9 ‘I hate’ she altered with an end,
10 That followed it as gentle day,
11 Doth follow night who like a fiend
12 From heaven to hell is flown away.
13 ‘I hate’, from hate away she threw,
14 And saved my life saying ‘not you’.