Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'
To me that languish'd 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 alter'd with an end,
That follow'd it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away;
'I hate' from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying 'not you.
- William Shakespeare
This sonnet is unique in the collection, because it is written in iambic tetrameter, instead of pentameter. Because of this it is said to either be one of the earliest works of Shakespeare or not his work at all.
G. Blakemore Evans has said: "[Sonnet] 145 has proved an embarrassment to critics and editors. . . .A playful, neatly turned trifle, 145 conveys no sense of serious emotional involvement or complication, and the richly ambivalent associative language we commonly find in Shakespeare's sonnets is notably absent.”
Personally I don’t care if Shakespeare himself wrote it, history claims it as his and I love it. Read it out loud, let the words flow and you’ll love it too.
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