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