English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 121. Seventy-first Sonnet |
| | | William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
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| NO longer mourn for me when I am dead | |
| Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell | |
| Give warning to the world, that I am fled | |
| From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell; | |
| Nay, if you read this line, remember not | 5 |
| The hand that writ it; for I love you so, | |
| That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot | |
| If thinking on me then should make you woe. | |
| O, if, I say, you look upon this verse | |
| When I perhaps compounded am with clay, | 10 |
| Do not so much as my poor name rehearse, | |
| But let your love even with my life decay, | |
| Lest the wise world should look into your moan, | |
| And mock you with me after I am gone. | |
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