When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes...
Sonnet 29When, 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. |
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When I sit and moan about my bad fortune and being a social pariah, calling uselessly to an unresponsive heaven, cursing the hand fate’s dealt me: wishing I had more to hope for, or were better-looking, had more friends, more skill, more opportunity – and in a complete state of discontent with things that usually I enjoy – yet while I’m pretty much disgusted with myself thinking these thoughts, if I happen to think about you! Then I feel like a lark singing high in the sky in the morning, because the remembrance of your love is such a treasure that I wouldn’t want to change places even with kings.