Sonnet 150

Oh from what powre hast thou this powrefull might,

With insufficiency my heart to sway,

To make me give the lie to my true sight,

And swere that brightnesse doth not grace the day?

Whence hast thou this becomming of things il,

That in the very refuse of thy deeds,

There is such strngth and warrantise of skill,

That in my minde thy worst all best exceeds?

Who taught thee how to make me love thee more,

The more I heare and see just cause of hate,

Oh though I love what others doe abhor,

With others thou shouldst not abhor my state.

If thy unwortinesse raisd love in me,

More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.