When in disgrace with fortune and men's eye's,
I all alone beweep my out cast 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,
Featur'd 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,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
( Like to the lark at break
of day arising from sullen earth )
Sing hymns at heaven's gate,
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with Kings.
William Shakeespeare
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