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XXIX.
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all
alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deal 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.
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