Shakespeare's Sonnet 149

Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,When I against myself with thee partake?Do I not think on thee, when I forgotAm of my self, all tyrant, for thy sake?Who hateth thee that I do call my friend,On whom frown’st thou that I do fawn upon,Nay, if thou lour’st on me, do I not spendRevenge upon myself with present moan?What merit do I in my self respect,That is so proud thy service to despise,When all my best doth worship thy defect,Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;Those that can see thou lov’st, and I am blind.

Cruel one, can you say I do not love you when I take your side against myself? Do I not think of you when, you complete tyrant, I forget myself for your sake? Do I call anyone my friend who hates you? Do I flatter anyone you frown on? Indeed, if you glare at me, don't I immediately punish myself with sorrow? What good quality in myself do I value so highly that it would be too proud to serve you, when everything best in me worships your faults, obeying the movements of your eyes? But, my love, go on hating me, because now I understand you: you love people who can see, and I am blind.