I cannot paint what then I was. - William Wordsworth

To begin, begin.

And oft I thought (my fancy was-so strong) That I, at last, a resting-place had found: 'Here: will I dwell,' said I,' my whole life long, Roaming the illimitable waters round; Here will I live, of all but heaven disowned. And end my days upon the peaceful flood— To break my dream the vessel reached its bound; And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?