31

Thy boſome is indeared with all hearts,
Which I by lacking haue ſuppoſed dead;
And there raignes Loue and all Loues louing parts,
And all thoſe friends which I thought buried.
How many a holy and obſeqious teare
Hath deare religious loue ſtolne from mine eye,
As intereſt of the dead,which now appeare,
But things remou’d that hidden in there lie.
Thou art the graue where buried loue doth liue,
Hung with the tropheis of my louers gon,
Who all their parts of me to thee did giue,
That due of many,now is thine alone.
   Their images I lou’d, I view in thee,
   And thou(all they)haſt all the all of me.

Zie ook het online-facsimile van de oorspronkelijke uitgave (site helaas niet altijd bereikbaar).