Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts, <br /> Which I by lacking have supposed dead, <br /> And there reigns love and all love's loving parts, <br /> And all those friends which I thought buried. <br /> How many a holy and obsequious tear <br /> Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye <br /> As interest of the dead, which now appear <br /> But things removed that hidden in thee lie! <br /> Thou art the grave where buried love doth live, <br /> Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone, <br /> Who all their parts of me to thee did give; <br /> That due of many now is thine alone: <br /> Their images I loved I view in thee, <br /> And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xxxi/
