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    Sonnet 71 - William Shakespeare

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    poetictouch

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    William Shakespeare - Sonnet 71 - Read by Lorraine Montgomery

    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.