Might there be heard; but careless quiet lyes
Wrapt in eternall silence farre from enimyes.
[94] Rejoice.
[95] First, formerly.
[96] Spring.
WILLIAM SHAKSPERE.
SONNET XC.
Then hate me when thou wilt: if ever, now:
Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,
Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,
And do not drop in for an after loss.