SHAKESPEARE himself gets the last word(s) on himself as he considers the power of love and friendship in the face of mortality in another of his most admired sonnets.

SONNET 30

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought

I summon up remembrance of things past,

I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,

And with old woes now wail my dear time's waste.

Then can I drown an eye unused to flow

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long-since-cancelled woe,

And moan th'expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er

The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,

Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All losses are restored, and sorrows end.