Sonnet 27

by William Shakespeare

Memorize the poem, Sonnet 27 by William Shakespeare.

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear respose for limbs with travel tir’d; 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.

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