Sonnet 110

1 Alas ’tis true, I have gone here and there,
2 And made my self a motley to the view,
3 Gored mine own thoughts, sold cheap what is most dear,
4 Made old offences of affections new.
5 Most true it is, that I have looked on truth
6 Askance and strangely: but by all above,
7 These blenches gave my heart another youth,
8 And worse essays proved thee my best of love.
9 Now all is done, have what shall have no end,
10 Mine appetite I never more will grind
11 On newer proof, to try an older friend,
12 A god in love, to whom I am confined.
13 Then give me welcome, next my heaven the best,
14 Even to thy pure and most most loving breast.