letra de sonnet 27 - kathryn rose
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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 facе new
lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind
for thee, and for myself, no quiet find
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