Weary With Toil
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 face new
Old face new
Old face new
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eased by night
But day by night, and night by day, oppressed?
And each, though enemies to either's reign
Do in consent shake hands to torture me
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee
Lo, thus, by day my limbs
By night my mind
For thee, and for myself
No quiet find
No
Quiet find
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
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
Old face new
Old face
Old face
New
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 face new
Old face new
Old face new
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eased by night
But day by night, and night by day, oppressed?
And each, though enemies to either's reign
Do in consent shake hands to torture me
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee
Lo, thus, by day my limbs
By night my mind
For thee, and for myself
No quiet find
No
Quiet find
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
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
Old face new
Old face
Old face
New
Credits
Writer(s): William Shakespeare, Op
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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