- O more be grieved at that which thou hast done:
- Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud;
- Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun,
- And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
- All men make faults, and even I in this,
- Authorizing thy trespass with compare,
- Myself corrupting, salving thy amiss,
- Excusing thy sins more than thy sins are;
- For to thy sensual fault I bring in sense
- (Thy adverse party is thy advocate)
- And 'gainst myself a lawful plea commence;
- Such civil war is in my love and hate
- That I an accessory needs must be
- To that sweet thief which sourly robs me.
by: William Shakespeare (1564-1616)