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Sonnet 145

              ,           ,             ,          ,
      Those^lips | that Love's | own* hand | did make,
          T      T    .    T            ,        ,
      Breathed forth the sound | that said | I hate,
          ,         ,           ,          ,
      To me | that lan|guished for | her sake:
            ,         ,        ,        ,
      But when | she saw | my woe|ful state,
         ,                ,          ,       ,
      Straight in | her heart | did mer|cy come,
        ,               ,          ,       ,
      Chiding | that tongue | that e|ver sweet
            ,        ,       ,        ,
      Was used | in gi|ving gen|tle doom:
             ,          ,      ,         ,
      And taught | it thus | anew | to greet:
          ,         ,         ,        ,
      I hate | she al|tered with | an end,
            ,         ,       ,       ,
      That fol|lowed it | as gen|tle day
            ,        ,           ,        ,
      Doth^fol|low night | who like | a fiend
              x          ,         ,        ,
      From heaven | to hell | is flown | away.
          ,           ,       ,         ,
      I hate,| from hate | away | she threw,
            ,          ,     ,            ,
      And saved | my life,| saying | not you.
 
 
*This sonnet is in tetrameter

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