X. My mourning Mistress’s garments, black doth bear

Robert Tofte (1561–1620)

MY mourning Mistress’s garments, black doth bear;

And I in black, like her, attirèd am!

Yet diverse is the cause why black we wear;

She for another’s death doth shew the same.

I for another reason bear this suit;

Only to show by this, my outward weed,

Mine inward grief (although my tongue be mute)

Of tender heart; which deadly sighs doth bleed.

Thrice happy I, if, as in habit [dress] we

Are both in one, our minds both one might be.