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