Shakespeare's Sonnets: Your love and pity doth th'impression fill

Your love and pity doth th'impression fillWhich vulgar scandal stampt upon my brow,For what care I who calls me well or illSo you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?You are my all-the-world, and I must striveTo know my shames and praises from your tongue,None else to me, nor I to none alive,That my steel'd sense o'er-changes right or wrong.In so profound abysm I throw all careOf others' voices that my adder's senseTo 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 me thinks you're dead.