Alas, good friend, what profit can you see <br />In hating such a hateless thing as me? <br />There is no sport in hate where all the rage <br />Is on one side: in vain would you assuage <br />Your frowns upon an unresisting smile, <br />In which not even contempt lurks to beguile <br />Your heart, by some faint sympathy of hate. <br />Oh, conquer what you cannot satiate! <br />For to your passion I am far more coy <br />Than ever yet was coldest maid or boy <br />In winter noon. Of your antipathy <br />If I am the Narcissus, you are free <br />To pine into a sound with hating me.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-to-a-reviewer/
