To my dear husband
George Henry Lewes

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
⋮
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 remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.