I had but one, and gave to thee the whole.
Come then and see, if thou the truth wouldst test,
Instead of my own heart, my love, my soul,
Thou wilt thine image find within my breast!
Another poet treats somewhat the same idea in a drolly realistic way—
Last night I dreamt we both were dead,
And, love! beside each other laid.
Doctors and Surgeons filled the place
To make autopsy of the case—
Knives, scissors, saws, with eager zest