“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.” – William Shakespeare
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