| 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 expir’d: | |
| For then my thoughts—from far where I abide— | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| 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. |