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 possessed
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 remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings