Sonnet 90

1 Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now,
2 Now while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
3 join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
4 And do not drop in for an after-loss:
5 Ah do not, when my heart hath ’scaped this sorrow,
6 Come in the rearward of a conquered woe,
7 Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
8 To linger out a purposed overthrow.
9 If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
10 When other petty griefs have done their spite,
11 But in the onset come, so shall I taste
12 At first the very worst of fortune’s might.
13 And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
14 Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.