- O! lest the world should task you to recite
- What merit lived in me, that you should love
- After my death, dear love, forget me quite,
- For you in me can nothing worthy prove;
- Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
- To do more for me than mine own desert,
- And hang more praise upon deceased I
- Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
- O! lest your true love may seem false in this
- That you for love speak well of me untrue,
- My name be buried where my body is,
- And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
- For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
- And so should you, to love things nothing worth.