William Shakespeare
1564-1616
Sonnet LXXIV
But be contented:
when that fell arrest
Without all bail shall
carry me away,
My life hath in this
line some interest,
Which for memorial
still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest
this, thou dost review
The very part was
consecrate to thee:
The earth can have
but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine,
the better part of me:
So then thou hast
but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms,
my body being dead;
The coward conquest
of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to
be remembered,.
The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.
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