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Tritonus

de Mustasch

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 possess´d
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) remember´d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry
As, to behold desert a beggar born
And needy nothing trimm´d in jollity
And purest faith unhappily forsworn
And guilded honour shamefully misplaced
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced
And strength by limping sway disabled
And art made tongue-tied by authority
And folly doctor-like controlling skill
And simple truth miscall´d simplicity
And captive good attending captain ill
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone
Save that, to die
(I leave my love alone)

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