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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
'scoped this sorrow,
Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe;
Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,
To linger out a purposed 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 taste
At first the very worst of fortune's might,
And other strains of woe, which
now seem woe,
Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
Sonnet 90
by Sergei,
Nikitin,
Russian composer and singer
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Sonnet 116
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom....
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Romeo and Juliet
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite...
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Hamlet
Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun
doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love...
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