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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=573244" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet CLXIII:</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=573244" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'O for my sake do you with fortune chide'-- <br>I almost took sad Shakespeare's thought for mine, <br>So closely fits his sonnet line by line <br>The wretched case in which my life was tried. <br>Fraud, falsehood, avarice, the beastly pride <br>That swells the entrails of the gorging swine, <br>The selfish greed that guzzles filth as wine, <br>The grovelling spite that vaunts what it should hide; <br>All these foul things have compassed me around, <br>And with this hell of baseness I have striven, <br>Till God's ten laws in solemn jest seemed given. <br>Then do not wonder that I kissed the ground <br>Beneath thy feet; my joy was so profound, <br>To hail a soul that was designed in heaven.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=George+Henry+Boker">George Henry Boker</a></strong></div>

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