XXIX.

When, in difgrace 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 poffeff'd,
Defiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented leaft;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost defpifing,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising

From fullen earth, fings hymns at heaven's gate:
For thy fweet love rememb'red fuch wealth brings
That then I fcorn to change my state with kings.

XXX.

When to the feffions of fweet filent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,

I figh the lack of many a thing I fought,

And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste :
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,

For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long fince cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight :
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,

And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The fad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,

All loffes are reftored and forrows end.