letra de sonnet 90 - the marlowe society
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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
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
but in the onset come: so shall i tastе
at first the very worst of fortune’s might;
and othеr strains of woe, which now seem woe
compar’d with loss of thee will not seem so
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