Sonnet 74
But be contented: when that fell
arrest
«William Shakespeare»
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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