Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.
More verses by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet Xv: When I Consider Everything That Grows
- Sonnets Xxx: When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought
- Sonnet Cxiii
- Sonnet 69: Those Parts Of Thee That The World's Eye Doth View
- Sonnet Lxxv