Luyện nghe bài hát Viii. Escalation - C - (sonnet Xxvii)

Weary with toil, I me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs travel tired;
But then begins a in my head,
To work my mind, when body's expired:
For then my thoughts, far where I abide,
a zealous pilgrimage to thee,
And keep my drooping eyelids wide,
on darkness which the blind do see
Save that my imaginary sight
Presents thy shadow to my view,
Which, a jewel hung in ghastly night,
Makes night beauteous and her old face new.
Lo! thus, by day my limbs, by my mind,
For thee and for no quiet find.