C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Song: I prithee send me back my heart
By Sir John Suckling (16091642)
I
Since I cannot have thine;
For if from thine thou wilt not part,
Why then shouldst thou have mine?
To find it were in vain,
For thou’st a thief in either eye
Would steal it back again.
And yet not lodge together?
O love, where is thy sympathy,
If thus our breasts thou sever?
I cannot find it out;
For when I think I’m best resolved
I then am most in doubt.
I will no longer pine;
For I’ll believe I have her heart,
As much as she hath mine.