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 my self 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 my self 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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