Sonnet XXIX, by
William Shakespeare
When, in
disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone
beweep my
outcast state,
And trouble
deaf heaven with my
bootless cries,
And look upon myself and
curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy
contented least:
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at
break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings
hymns at
heaven's gate;
For
thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings'.
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