Another Shakespeare
I think this is Sonnet 23
Correct me if I'm wrong afterwards
Or not
I may be right
No longer mourn for me
When I am dead
Than you shall hear
The surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world
That I am fled
From this vile world
With vilest worms to dwell
Nay, if you read these lines
Remember not
The hand that writ them
For I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts
Should be forgot
If thinking on me
Then should bring you woe
O, if I say
You look upon this verse
When I perhaps
Compounded am with clay
Compounded am with clay
Do not so much
As my poor name rehearse
But let your love even
With my life decay
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
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Another Shakespeare
I think this is Sonnet 23
Correct me if I'm wrong afterwards
Or not
I may be right
No longer mourn for me
When I am dead
Than you shall hear
The surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world
That I am fled
From this vile world
With vilest worms to dwell
Nay, if you read these lines
Remember not
The hand that writ them
For I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts
Should be forgot
If thinking on me
Then should bring you woe
O, if I say
You look upon this verse
When I perhaps
Compounded am with clay
Compounded am with clay
Do not so much
As my poor name rehearse
But let your love even
With my life decay
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
I think this is Sonnet 23
Correct me if I'm wrong afterwards
Or not
I may be right
No longer mourn for me
When I am dead
Than you shall hear
The surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world
That I am fled
From this vile world
With vilest worms to dwell
Nay, if you read these lines
Remember not
The hand that writ them
For I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts
Should be forgot
If thinking on me
Then should bring you woe
O, if I say
You look upon this verse
When I perhaps
Compounded am with clay
Compounded am with clay
Do not so much
As my poor name rehearse
But let your love even
With my life decay
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
Lest the wise world should
Look into your moan
And mock you with me
After I am gone
And mock you with me
After I am gone
Writer: William Shakespeare
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid