“I prithee send me back my heart”

I Prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst 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 thou sever? But love is such a mystery, I cannot find it out; For when I think I ’m best resolved I then am most in 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.

Collection: 
English
1629
Sir John Suckling
Sub Title: 
IV. Wooing and Winning

More from Poet

  • The Bride

    From “a Ballad upon a Wedding” * * * * *THE MAID, and thereby hangs a tale, For such a maid no Whitsun-ale Could ever yet produce: No grape that ’s kindly ripe could be So round, so plump, so soft as she, Nor half so full of juice. Her finger was so small, the...

  • “Why so pale and wan?”

    Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Pr’y thee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can’t move her, Looking ill prevail? Pr’y thee, why so pale? Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Pr’y thee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can’t win her, Saying nothing do ’t? Pr’y thee, why so...

  • “I prithee send me back my heart”

    I Prithee send me back my heart, Since I cannot have thine; For if from yours you will not part, Why then shouldst 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...

  • Constancy

    Out upon it. I have loved Three whole days together; And am like to love three more, If it prove fair weather. Time shall moult away his wings, Ere he shall discover In the whole wide world again Such a constant lover. But the spite on ’t is, no praise Is due at all to me; Love with me...

  • When, Dearest, I but Think of Thee

    When, dearest, I but think of thee,
    Methinks all things that lovely be
    Are present, and my soul delighted:
    For beauties that from worth arise
    Are like the grace of deities,
    Still present with us, tho’ unsighted.

    Thus while I sit and sigh the day
    With...