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    William Shakespeare - Sonnet 27 - John Gielgud

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    poetictouch

    by poetictouch

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    Sir John Gielgud reads Shakespeare's Sonnet 27

    Sonnet 27
    by William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

    Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
    The dear repose for limbs with travail 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 face new.
    Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,
    For thee and for myself no quiet find.