Hate Is Thy Hardest Blow
Then hate me if thou wilt so, be it now
Now as I dost feel worse of my deeds gross
Pour thy anger that all in all I bow
For sum of hate thy own alone dost cross.
Do not when this sorrow I hast resigned
And petty mourns I dwell replenished down
For if thou wilt pain me in first thou line
Not in the last when in relief im crowned.
Ah! For none equals thy effect as worst
Aye, thee having hate is thy hardest blow
Harder than thy free speaking false felt curse
For thy hurt lies behind thy normal show.
Hate of loving then leaving thou dost so;
Without thee, I don't know where i must go.
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