Although our undivided loves are one,
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
Without thy help by me be borne alone,
In our two Loves, there is but one respect,
Though in our lives, a separable spite,
Which though it alter not Love's sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from loves delight,
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honor me,
Unless thou take that honor from thy name,
But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
Word Bank:
Twain: separate, between
Blots: Problems, think like spots on your shirt, but worse, in the metaphoric sense.
No comments:
Post a Comment