- 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