William Blake (1757–1827). The Poetical Works. 1908.
Poems from Letters[To Thomas Butts]: O! why was I born with a different face?
O!
Why was I not born like the rest of my race?
When I look, each one starts; when I speak, I offend;
Then I’m silent and passive, and lose every friend.
My person degrade, and my temper chastise;
And the pen is my terror, the pencil my shame;
All my talents I bury, and dead is my fame.
When elate I’m envied; when meek I’m despis’d.