Sonnet CXC:
If I die now, I have not lived in vain;
If this last breath, which quivers through my lip.
Into the vast and dismal mystery slip,
And ne’er return as living breath again.
Some underrate me, and some hold my strain
Above the worth of many men who dip
Their hallowed palms in Helicon, and sip
Its deathless waters, and begin their reign.
Howbeit, Dearest, I shall never know
What fate will follow me beyond the gloom,
To ban or bless my all unconscious tomb;
But this I know, a warm and tender glow—
More to my heart than rumor’s praise or doom—
Falls from thy love, and therefore boast I so.
