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
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