Alas 'tis true, I have gone here and there,And made my self a motley to the view,Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,Made old offences of affections new.

Most true it is, that I have looked on truthAskance and strangely: but by all above,These blenches gave my heart another youth,And worse essays proved thee my best of love.

Now all is done, have 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 confined.

Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.