Tuesday (feels like Friday)

It’s full-fledged winter already (nasty roads and everything), even though it’s not even Thanksgiving yet  L  But here’s sonnet 74:

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LXXIV

  But be contented: when that fell arrest

  Without 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 review

  The 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.

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Starts with a standard turn marker but!!  J  And the volta is the and ath the beginning of the last line, which is late enough to justify starting the poem with the but.