The given Heart.

I Wonder what those Lovers mean, who say,
They have giv'en their Hearts away.
Some good kind Lover tell me how;
For mine is but a Torment to me now.

If so it be, one place both hearts contain,
For what do they complain?
What courtesie can Love do more,
Then to joyn Hearts, that parted were before?

Wo to her stubborn Heart, if once mine com
Into the self same room;
'Twill tear and blow up all within,
Like a Granado shot into a Magazin.

Then shall Love keep the ashes, and torn parts,
Of both our broken Hearts:
Shall out of both one new one make,
From hers, th'Allay; from mine, the Mettal take.

For of her heart, he from the flames will find
But little left behind:
Mine onely will remain entire;
No dross was there, to perish in the Fire.