Sonnet 29- William Shakespeare


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