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 Truth Askance 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 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.