Tritonus - 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 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, 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