THE SONNETS by William Shakespeare (110)

CX

    Alas¹！ '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 truth Askance and strangely； but, by all above, These blenches² 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 grind On 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.