The Sonnets

When in disgrace with fortune and menʼs 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,

Featurʼd like him, like him with friends possessʼd,

Desiring this manʼs art, and that manʼs 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 heavenʼs gate;

For thy sweet love rememberʼd such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.