No Longer Mourn For Me (Sonnet 71)

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

That I am fled from this vile world with vilest worms to dwell

Nay, if you read this line

Remember not the hand that writ it

Remember not the hand that writ it

For I love you so

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

After I am gone