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David Shaw-Parker
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Sonnet 71: No Longer Mourn for Me When I Am Dead
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 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 should make you woe
O! if I say you look upon this verse
when I perhaps compounded am whit clay
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse
But let your love even when my life decay
Lest the wise worl ahould look in to your moan
And mock you with me after I'am gone
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