Q 145

THose lips that Love's own hand did make,
Breath'd forth the sound that said I hate,
To me that languish'd for her sake:
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet,
Was us'd in giving gentle doom:
And taught it thus anew to greet:
I hate she alter'd with an end,
That follow'd 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.
buy me