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 fiendFrom heaven to hell is flown away.
'I hate', from hate away she threw,And saved my life saying 'not you'.
