TO MY LOVE

I PR’YTHEE send me back my heart,

Since I can not have thine;

For if from yours you will not part,

Why then should’st thou have mine?

Yet now I think on’t, let it lie;

To find it, were in vain:

For thou’st a thief in either eye

Would steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast lie,

And yet not lodge together?

O love! where is thy sympathy,

If thus our breasts you sever?

But love is such a mystery

I can not find it out;

For when I think I’m best resolved,

I then am in most doubt.

Then farewell care, and farewell woe,

I will no longer pine;

For I’ll believe I have her heart,

As much as she has mine.

Sir John Suckling.