1593-1603 by Shakespeare 
Sonnet 145 

1	Those lips that love’s own hand did make
2	Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate”
3	To me that languished for her sake#
4	But when she saw my woeful state,
5	Straight in her heart did mercy come,
6	Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
7	Was used in giving gentle doom,
8	And taught it thus anew to greet:
9	“I hate” she altered with an end
10	That followed it as gentle day
11	Doth follow night who, like a fiend,
12	From heaven to hell is flown away.
13	“I hate” from hate away she threw,
14	And saved my life, saying “not you.”