My true love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for other given.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driven.
His heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own;
I cherish his because in me it bides.
His heart his wound received from my sight,
His heart was wounded with his wounded heart,
For as from me, on him his hurt did light,
So still methought in me his hurt did smart.
Both, equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss:
My true love hath my heart, and I have his.
Philip Sidney
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