Sonnet 36

Let me confess that we two must be twain,

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 love’s delight.

I may not evermore acknowledge thee,

Lest my bewailèd guilt should do thee shame,

Nor thou with public kindness honour me,

Unless thou take that honour from thy name:

But do not so; I love thee in such sort

As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.

I have to concede that we’re two separate people

Although our love together is one.

The problems with me are beneath your steeple:

Mine, and mine alone.

Our love is love, on one way,

Though mine separates despite,

Taking sometimes off a day,

Stealing sometimes a joyful night.

Because it’s this way, I may not always say

That you are mine or I am yours,

For to be associated with me might be

In the public eye a curse.

But don’t hide a thing of your love from me:

You’re purely a blessing, as far as I see.