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CL.
O,
from what power hast thou this powerful might
With
insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the
lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth
not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of
things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantize of skill
That,
in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught
thee how to make me love thee more
The more I hear
and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what
others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor
my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
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