Shakespeare-Sonnet 71

1. No longer mourn for me when I am dead
2. Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell
3. Give warning to the world that I am fled
4. From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:
5. Nay, if you read this line, remember not
6. The hand that writ it, for I love you so,
7. That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,
8. If thinking on me then should make you woe.
9. O! if, I say, you look upon this verse,
10. When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
11. Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;
12. But let your love even with my life decay;
13. Lest the wise world should look into your moan,
14. And mock you with me after I am gone.