And send him many years of sunshine days!
To whom God will, there be the victory.
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And asleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must be heard of, say, I taught thee.
Then love-devouring Death do what he dare.
If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul.
It is not, nor it cannot, come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.