Shakespeare's Sonnet 31

Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts,Which I by lacking have supposed dead;And there reigns Love, and all Love’s loving parts,And all those friends which I thought buried.How many a holy and obsequious tearHath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye,As interest of the dead, which now appearBut things remov’d that hidden in thee lie!Thou art the grave where buried love doth live,Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone,Who all their parts of me to thee did give,That due of many now is thine alone:Their images I lov’d, I view in thee,And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.

Your heart holds all the hearts I love, which I thought were dead because I no longer had them. Love rules there, along with all its loving qualities and all those friends I thought were buried. How many devoted tears of mourning has my deeply faithful love drawn from my eyes, as payments owed to the dead! Now they turn out to be only people taken away and hidden within you. You are the grave where buried love lives, decorated with reminders of those I loved and lost. They have all given you the parts of me they owned, so what once belonged to many now belongs to you alone. I see in you the likenesses of those I loved, and you, containing them all, possess every part of me.