| [… ] what did become |
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| Of my heart when I first saw thee? |
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| I brought a heart into the room, |
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| But from the room I carried none with me. |
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| If it had gone to thee, I know |
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| Mine would have taught thine heart to show |
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| More pity unto me; but Love, alas! |
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| At one first blow did shiver it as glass.
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|
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| Yet nothing can to nothing fall, |
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| Nor any place be empty quite; |
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| Therefore I think my breast hath all |
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| Those pieces still, though they be not unite; |
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| And now, as broken glasses show |
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| A hundred lesser faces, so |
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| My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, |
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| But after one such love, can love no more. |
|
from “The Broken Heart,” John Donne
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