CXAlas! ’tis true, I have gone here and there,And made my self a motley to the view,Gor’d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,Made old offences of affections new;Most true it is, that I have look’d on truthAskance and strangely; but, by all above,These blenches gave my heart another youth,And worse essays prov’d thee my best of love.Now all is done, save what shall have no end:Mine appetite I never more will grindOn newer proof, to try an older friend,A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.
Alas! ’tis true, I have gone here and there,And made my self a motley to the view,Gor’d mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,Made old offences of affections new;Most true it is, that I have look’d on truthAskance and strangely; but, by all above,These blenches gave my heart another youth,And worse essays prov’d thee my best of love.Now all is done, save what shall have no end:Mine appetite I never more will grindOn newer proof, to try an older friend,A god in love, to whom I am confin’d.Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.