Love is my sin and thy dear virtue hate, <br /> Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving: <br /> O, but with mine compare thou thine own state, <br /> And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; <br /> Or, if it do, not from those lips of thine, <br /> That have profaned their scarlet ornaments <br /> And seal'd false bonds of love as oft as mine, <br /> Robb'd others' beds' revenues of their rents. <br /> Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those <br /> Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee: <br /> Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows <br /> Thy pity may deserve to pitied be. <br /> If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide, <br /> By self-example mayst thou be denied!<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-cxlii/
