I love this poem. Typing it out is a pleasure. How blessed I am, and yet how much time I waste wishing I were like someone else. Indeed, when I value my blessings rightly, I scorn to change my state with Kings.
And yes, once again I've gone all week without posting. Sorry.
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 possest,
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 rememb'red such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with Kings.
Here's today's Poetry Friday roundup.
11 hours ago