That thou hast her, it is not all my grief,
    And yet it may be said I loved her dearly;
    That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief,
    A loss in love that touches me more nearly.
    Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:
    Thou dost love her, because thou knowst I love her;
    And for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
    Suffering my friend for my sake to approve her.
    If I lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain,
    And losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
    Both find each other, and I lose both twain,
    And both for my sake lay on me this cross:
    But here’s the joy; my friend and I are one;
    Sweet flattery! then she loves but me alone.

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