|
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 possess'd,
|
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 remember'd such wealth brings
|
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
(Sonnet 29)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
