Many a time and oft
Hath you been so real to me,
To anyone and yourself? Nay,
This passion will bear no colour.

For it were a burlesque
Apt to be render'd, for me to write
In this kind, by means
To finally acknowledge you.

If I had been a man,
I would ope my doublet, and
I might hath offer'd you this,
But where art thou?

Am I yourself, but as in sort
Of talking to you sometimes?
I have not seen you set me down
Even 'tis just an especial crony.

Tut I am not in your bosoms
But I know wherefore you do it.
Dwell not in the suburbs of London,
As you might see your shadow.