I love Shakespeare’s plays. They are amazing. I hope to one day see all of them on stage.

I am not so enamoured with his sonnets. However I thought I might share one that stands out to me.

Sonnet 27

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,

The dear repose for limbs with travel tired:

But then begins a joinery 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.