Sonnet 149
Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not,When I against myself with thee partake?Do I not think on thee, when I forgotAm of myself, all tyrant for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spendRevenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respectThat is so proud thy service to despise,When all my best doth worship thy defect,Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;Those that can see, thou lov’st, and I am blind.