Jorvik

It must be some kind miracle that I
Who should be lying prostrate on the floor
Can stand, and breathe, and walk, instead of die
For who can do these things, or even more,
Without his heart? And I, poor fool, am sure
My heart lies in a city far away
With someone else. I can think of no cure
Science could bring to one in such a way,
But God and love together have designed
The perfect remedy for what I lack.
I have not got my heart, but I may find
By miracle I have got something back:
Another heart for mine, and it beats strong
While in her breast my own will beat along.