Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts, <br />Which I by lacking have supposèd dead, <br />And there reigns love and all love's loving parts, <br />And all those friends which I thought burièd. <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-31-thy-bosom-is-endear-egrave-d-with-all/
