1593-1603 by Shakespeare 
Sonnet 133 

1	Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
2	For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
3	Is ’t not enough to torture me alone,
4	But slave to slavery my sweet’st friend must be?
5	Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,
6	And my next self thou harder hast engrossed.
7	Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken 
8	A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
9	Prison my heart in thy steel bosom’s ward,
10	But then my friend’s heart let my poor heart bail#
11	Whoe’er keeps me, let my heart be his guard#
12	Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail.
13	And yet thou wilt# for I, being pent in thee,
14	Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.