lazy and sweet...for your sunday

Weary with toil, I haste to 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 bew.

Lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,

For thee, and myself, no quiet find.

S