Sonnet 27: Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed

1Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,

2The dear respose for limbs with travel tir'd;

3But then begins a journey in my head

4To work my mind, when body's work's expired:

5For then my thoughts — from far where I abide —

6Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,

7And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,

8Looking on darkness which the blind do see:

9Save that my soul's imaginary sight

10Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,

11Which, like a jewel (hung in ghastly night,

12Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new.

13 Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,

14 For thee, and for myself, no quiet find.