Riddle

In Mornigan’s park there is a deer,

Silver horns and golden ear,

Neither fish, flesh, feather, nor bone,

In Mornigan’s park she walks alone.

The Faber Book of Popular Verse, ed. by Geoffrey Grigson (London: Faber and Faber, 1971), 39.

[My true Love hath my heart,…] by Sir Philip Sidney

My true Love hath my heart, and I have his,

    By just exchange, one for the other given:

I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;

    There never was a better bargain driven.

His heart in me keeps me and him in one,

    My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

He loves my heart, for once it was his own;

    I cherish his because in me it bides.

His heart his wound receivëd from my sight,

    My heart was wounded, with his wounded heart;

For as from me, on him his hurt did light,

    So still methought in me his hurt did smart.

        Both, equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss:

        My true Love hath my heart, and I have his.

Everyman’s Book of English Love Poems, ed. by John Hadfield (London, Melbourne, Toronto: J M Dent & Sons, 1980), 44.