Sonnet XXIX

February 1, 2006 at 8:09 pm 2 comments

William Shakespeare

Because after all, no collection of poetry can ever be complete without the Bard.

When in disgrace with Fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone beweepe my out-cast state,
And trouble deafe heaven with my bootlesse cries,
And looke upon my selfe and curse my fate.
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possest,
Desiring this mans art and that mans skope,
With what I most injoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts my selfe almost despising,
Haplye I thinke on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the Larke at breake of daye arising)
From sullen earth sings himns at Heavens gate,
For thy sweet love remembred such welth brings,
That then I skorne to change my state with Kings.

(the voice mauling the poem is mine, btw)


Entry filed under: English, William Shakespeare.

Men and Their Boring Arguments Kabhi Kabhi

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Megha  |  February 2, 2006 at 9:00 am

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    But you do have a nice thing going on here, so there.–>

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