William Shakespeare. 1564–1616

Sonnet L.

“How heavy do I journey on the way”

HOW heavy do I journey on the way  
When what I seek, my weary travel’s end,  
Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,  
‘Thus far the miles are measur’d from thy friend!’  
The beast that bears me, tired with my woe,    5
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,  
As if by some instinct the wretch did know  
His rider lov’d not speed, being made from thee:  
The bloody spur cannot provoke him on  
That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide,   10
Which heavily he answers with a groan  
More sharp to me than spurring to his side;  
  For that same groan doth put this in my mind:  
  My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.