Shakespeare's Sonnet 71

No longer mourn for me when I am deadThan you shall hear the surly sullen bellGive warning to the world that I am fledFrom this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:Nay, if you read this line, remember notThe hand that writ it, for I love you so,That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,If thinking on me then should make you woe.O if, I say, you look upon this verse,When I perhaps 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.

When I am dead, mourn for me no longer
Than you hear the harsh, gloomy bell
Telling the world that I have left
This vile world to live with the vilest worms.
In fact, if you read this line, do not remember
The hand that wrote it, for I love you so much
That I would rather be forgotten in your sweet thoughts
If thinking of me would make you sad.
If, I say, you look at this poem
When I may already be mixed with the earth,
Do not even repeat my poor name.
Let your love fade away along with my life,
So that the knowing world will not examine your grief
And mock you along with me after I am gone.