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.

67.  CVI.

When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express’d
Even such a beauty as you master now. 
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing: 
  For we, which now behold these present days,
  Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

68.  CXVI.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.  Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove: 
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. 
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 
  If this be error and upon me proved,
  I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

69. Song from ’The Tempest.’

Full fathom five thy father lies;
  Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes: 
  Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange. 
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: 
                Ding-dong. 
  Hark! now I hear them,—­
            Ding-dong, bell.

70. Song from ’Measure for Measure.’

Take, O, take those lips away,
  That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,
  Lights that do mislead the morn: 
But my kisses bring again, bring again;
Seals of love, but seal’d in vain, seal’d in vain.

71. Song from ’Much Ado about Nothing.’

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
  Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
  To one thing constant never: 
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
  And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
  Into Hey nonny, nonny.