katyzzzWilliam Shakespeare - Weary with toil...
October 7th 2008 08:26
Sonnets of William Shakespeare
Sonnet 27
XXVII.
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
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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Comment by Lilla
Enviro Warrior
An Extra Ordinary Life
Dream Herald
Nothing worse than sleepless nights, especially when your arms are aching from overworking them... but doesnt every writer know the curse of a wandering mind.
I love what you have done to the place Katyz, the pictures are glorious and being very much enjoyed by yours truly.
The other butterfly.