Your Love And Pity Doth The Impression Fill, Which Vulgar Scandal Stamp'D Upon My Brow; For What Care I Who Calls Me Well Or Ill, So You O'Er-Green My Bad, My Good Allow? You Are My All-The-World, And I Must Strive To Know My Shames And Praises From Your Tongue; None Else To Me, Nor I To None Alive, That My Steel'D Sense Or Changes Right Or Wrong. In So Profound Abysm I Throw All Care Of Others' Voices, That My Adder'S Sense To Critic And To Flatterer Stopped Are. Mark How With My Neglect I Do Dispense: You Are So Strongly In My Purpose Bred, That All The World Besides Methinks Are Dead.