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 I scorn to change my state with kings.
-William Shakespeare
Sonnet 29: one of my favorite poems by my favorite writer in the history of the English language. (Stephanie Meyer doesn't come anywhere close!)
Let's take a look at why this is my favorite poem. Sure, it's Shakespeare, my favorite writer, which adds to my liking of this poem, but it's not quite why I like it so much.
I love this sonnet because I can relate. "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes/I all alone beweep my outcast state..." I have been there. I have felt alienated and outcast; I have even felt like God Himself - my perfect, holy, loving Creator - couldn't possibly even care the least bit about my struggles (And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries). I have taken long hard looks at myself, thinking "Who are you? You'll never amount to anything." (And look upon myself and curse my fate/Wishing me like to one more rich in hope/Featured like him, like him with friend's possess'd/Desiring this man's art and that man's scope/With what I most enjoy contented least) Writing, as any of my friends and past teachers will tell you, is my passion. Far too often, I find myself comparing myself to other writers; I wish I could write poetry as profound and intriguing as they, but my scribblings cannot compare.
"Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising..." Ah yes, the turn. Don't you find happy endings just a little bit cheesy? Normally, I would agree with you, but there is a reason I love this one. Shakespeare, obviously, was writing this sonnet for his lover (as many sonnets had similar themes). Personally, I interpret this part of the poem a bit differently. In my case, and my personal interpretation of this poem, my lover is God. God, whom the speaker (and I) was criticizing at the beginning of the poem for not hearing his (and my) seemingly futile cries, suddenly comes to the rescue! "Haply I think on thee..." Seemingly by chance or coincidence (although I know that God's plan always prevails over chance), I remember God's gift of love and His plan for my life, and His love always gives me hope. "For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings that I scorn to change my state with kings."
Maybe I am reading between the lines a bit too much, but poetry, especially that of William Shakespeare and his contemporaries, can be interpreted in many different ways. That is the beauty of poetry...and Shakespeare mania.
