Sonnet XXVII by William Shakespeare (poetry, 1609)

[lb_lee]

"Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired:"

Blurb: A poem about traveling to one's companion in dreams.

Why is it worth your time?: It's fucking Shakespeare, the most celebrated author in the English language.

Plural Tags: abuse not mentioned, dreamfolk, intimate and friendly relationships

Content Warnings: None whatsoever.

Access Notes: It's Shakespeare. You can find it EVERYWHERE. Here, here's a link with notes! It's so short, we will also post it in the comments below.

Comments

Sonnet XXVII by William Shakespeare

[lb_lee]

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose 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.