That thou hast her it is not all my grief, <br />And yet it may be said I loved her dearly, <br />That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, <br />A loss in love that touches me more nearly. <br />Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye, <br />Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her, <br />And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, <br />Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her. <br />If I lose thee, my loss is my love's gain, <br />And losing her, my friend hath found that loss, <br />Both find each other, and I lose both twain, <br />And both for my sake lay on me this cross, <br />But here's the joy, my friend and I are one, <br />Sweet flattery, then she loves but me alone.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-42-that-thou-hast-her-it-is-not-all-my-grief/
