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,
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,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
This sonnet continues the theme of the previous one, that the youth should not seek to perpetuate the memory of his beloved, or the love itself, for the world will only seize upon it as an occasion of mockery, and the writer himself declares that he is unworthy of such memorial or such a loving remembrance. Far better that he be buried and his name be buried with him. In that way the youth will escape the shame and taint of association with such a worthless character.
Here also, as in 71, the poem contradicts its own message, for it is itself a memorial, even though it flatly refutes the need for any such testimony. But this inherent contradiction does not weaken its impact, for the restatement of the selflessness of love seems to make that love outlive its own annihilation. Although there is an underlying sense of fear that the youth will not be truthful or faithful (either before or after death), the prevailing truth is stronger, that omnia vincit amor, love conquers all.
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