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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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