POEM
Sonnet LXXI: No Longer Mourn for me when I am Dead
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Than you shall hear the surly sudden 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
The hand that write 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,
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.
Actor, dramatist, and poet, William Shakespeare (1564-1616) is the most highly regarded writer in . . . MORE »
More Poems by William Shakespeare
Sonnet III: Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest
Sonnet LXXVI: Why is my verse so barren of new pride
Sonnet LV: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Sonnet I: From fairest creatures we desire increase
Sonnet LIII: "What is your substance, whereof are you made"
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