Sonnet XXVII - Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed (by Shakespeare)

Photobucket


XXVII.

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear respose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:
For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,
Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,
Looking on darkness which the blind do see;
Save that my soul's imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,
Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes black night beauteous and her old face new.
      Lo! thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,
      For thee and for myself no quiet find.


-*-

   

 
Trackbacks
  • Trackbacks are closed for this post.
Comments
  • No comments exist for this post.
Leave a comment

 Name

 Email (will not be published)

 Website

Your comment is 0 characters limited to 3000 characters.