Sonnet 74

1 But be contented when that fell arrest,
2 Without all bail shall carry me away,
3 My life hath in this line some interest,
4 Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
5 When thou reviewest this, thou dost review,
6 The very part was consecrate to thee,
7 The earth can have but earth, which is his due,
8 My spirit is thine the better part of me,
9 So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
10 The prey of worms, my body being dead,
11 The coward conquest of a wretch’s knife,
12 Too base of thee to be remembered,
13 The worth of that, is that which it contains,
14 And that is this, and this with thee remains.