<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1>THE SONNETS</h1>
<h2>by William Shakespeare</h2>
<h2>XXVIII</h2>
<p class="poem">
How can I then return in happy plight,<br/>
That am debarre’d the benefit of rest?<br/>
When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,<br/>
But day by night and night by day oppress’d,<br/>
And each, though enemies to either’s reign,<br/>
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,<br/>
The one by toil, the other to complain<br/>
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.<br/>
I tell the day, to please him thou art bright,<br/>
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:<br/>
So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night,<br/>
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.<br/>
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,<br/>
And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.<br/></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.