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