William Shakespeare


Weary with toyle,I hast me to my bed,
the deare repose for lims with travaill tired,
but then begins a journy im my head
To worke my mind, when boddy's work's expired.
For then thoughts (from far where I abide)
Intend a zelous pilgrimage to thee,
And keepe my drooping eye-lids open wide,
looking on darknes which the blind doe see
Save that my soule's umaginary sight
Presents thy shaddoe to my sightles view,
which like a jewell ( hunge in gastly nighet)
Makes blacke night beautious, and her old face new.
Loe thus by day my lims, by night my minf,
For thee,and for my selfe, noe quiet find.