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Sonnet 27

        ,            ,        ,         ,       ,
      Weary | with toil,| I haste | me to | my bed,
            ,        ,          ,           ,        ,
      The dear | repose | for limbs | with trav|el tired;
            ,        ,        ,       ,        ,
      But then | begins | a journ|ey in | my head
           ,         ,          ,        ,          ,
      To work | my mind,| when bo|dy's work's | expired:
            ,           ,            ,          ,      ,
      For then | my thoughts |(from far | where I | abide)
          ,        ,        ,      ,         ,
      Intend | a zeal|ous pilg|rimage | to thee,
            ,         ,        ,        ,      ,
      And keep | my droop|ing eye|lids^op|en wide,
        ,            ,         ,           ,         ,
      Looking | on dark|ness which | the blind | do see:
        ,              ,        ,    ,      ,
      Save that | my soul's | imag|inar|y sight
           ,          ,       ,        ,          ,
      Presents | thy shad|ow to | my sight|less view,
        T     T  .  T       ,         ,        ,
      Which like a jew|el hung | in ghast|ly night,
        T     T     T       ,  2         2     ,          ,
      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 qui|et find.

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