I prithee send me back my heart,

Since I cannot have thine:

For if from yours you will not part,

Why then should you have mine?

Yet now I think on't, let it be,

To send it me is vain;

Thou hast a thief in either eye,

Will steal it back again.

Why should two hearts in one breast be,

And yet not be together;

Or love, where is thy sympathy,

If thou our hearts do sever?

But love is such a mystery,

I cannot find it out;

For when I think I am best resolv'd,

Then I am most in doubt.

Then farewel care, then farewel woe,

I will no longer pine;

But I'll believe I have her heart,

As well as she hath mine.