Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
XI. O Come Quickly
Sonnet: ‘Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now’
By William Shakespeare (1564–1616)
 
THEN hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after-loss:
Ah! do not, when my heart hath ’scap’d this sorrow,        5
Come in the rearward of a conquer’d woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purpos’d overthrow.
If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,
When other petty griefs have done their spite,        10
But in the onset come: so shall I taste
At first the very worst of fortune’s might;
  And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,
  Compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so.
 
 
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