Sonnet 145: Those Lips That Love’s Own Hand Did Make

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