Love Turned to Hatred-Sir John Suckling (1609-1642

I will not love one minute more, I swear,
No, not a minute; not a sigh or tear
Thou get'st from me, or one kind look again,
Though thou shouldst court me to't and wouldst begin.
I will not think of thee but as men do
Of debts and sins, and then I'll curse thee too;
For thy sake women shall be now to me
Less welcome, than at midnight ghosts shall be;
I'll hate so perfectly, that it shall be
Treason to love that man that loves a she;
Nay, I will hate the very good, I swear,
That's in thy sex, because it doth lie there;
Their very virtue, grace, discourse and wit,
And all for thee; what, wilt thou love me yet?

Sir John Suckling