O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, <br />The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, <br />That did not better for my life provide <br />Than public means which public manners breeds. <br />Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, <br />And almost thence my nature is subdued <br />To what it works in, like the dyer's hand. <br />Pity me then, and wish I were renewed, <br />Whilst like a willing patient I will drink <br />Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection; <br />No bitterness that I will bitter think, <br />Nor double penance to correct correction. <br /> Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye <br /> Even that your pity is enough to cure me.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-111-o-for-my-sake-do-you-with-fortune-chi/
