Sonnet 42
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 know'st 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