| 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, | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| My name be buried where my body is, | |
| And live no more to shame nor me nor you. | |
| For I am sham’d by that which I bring forth, | |
| And so should you, to love things nothing worth. |