William Shakespeare - Sonnet 71

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William Shakespeare - Sonnet 71 - Read by Chris Hughes

Sonnet 71
by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

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
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,
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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