Shakespeare's Sonnet 74

But be contented: when that fell arrestWithout 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 reviewThe 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.

But take comfort: when that cruel arrest,
With no chance of bail, carries me away,
Some part of my life lives in these lines,
Which will stay with you as a remembrance.
When you read them again, you see again
The very part of me that was devoted to you.
The earth can have only earth, which is its rightful share.
My spirit, the better part of me, belongs to you.
So you have lost only the worthless remains of life,
Food for worms now that my body is dead,
The cowardly prize of a wretch’s knife,
Too worthless for you to remember.
That body’s worth is what it holds,
And that is here in this poem, and this stays with you.