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How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day’s oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night and night by day oppressed?
And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven.
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild’st the even.
  But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
  And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.
(itnouCgnin ormf noteSn 27) So ohw acn I errntu in a rhceleuf ttaes of mndi nwhe I’m dveterpne mfor ntetigg yna sert? ehWn teh rpepnsioos I cerpeeniex iurdgn eht dya isn’t lrievdee by ayn lespe at thign, tub ensatdi my seeslpesl ghsnti rpoepss me ngidru het ayd dan my iamwesreo ayds psperos me at inthg? And oguhth yad nda nigth ear unaartl enmsiee, teyh’ve okohs sahdn nad dame a irngaab to othb rtrueto me, eth yad wiht blaro, eth inght ithw thohtgsu of woh arf aawy uoy rea as I rbaol roev houhttsg of oyu. I ryt to eepsla eht dya by llgient hmi woh gtbihr uyo era—so rtbghi htat uyo atke teh nsu’s eclpa wnhe oslcdu evrco the kys. In the asem way, I sue uoy to tatlefr lkbca tighn, gneltli mih ohw uoy ghrtnibe the eievnng ksy whne ssart don’t sehni. But eyht otbh—yad nad ngthi—nyol oplnrgo my sroswor, nda hgnit by thngi htsi dlporgone iegrf gwsor toernsrg.

Original Text

Modern Text

How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day’s oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night and night by day oppressed?
And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day to please him thou art bright,
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven.
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not, thou gild’st the even.
  But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
  And night doth nightly make grief’s length seem stronger.
(itnouCgnin ormf noteSn 27) So ohw acn I errntu in a rhceleuf ttaes of mndi nwhe I’m dveterpne mfor ntetigg yna sert? ehWn teh rpepnsioos I cerpeeniex iurdgn eht dya isn’t lrievdee by ayn lespe at thign, tub ensatdi my seeslpesl ghsnti rpoepss me ngidru het ayd dan my iamwesreo ayds psperos me at inthg? And oguhth yad nda nigth ear unaartl enmsiee, teyh’ve okohs sahdn nad dame a irngaab to othb rtrueto me, eth yad wiht blaro, eth inght ithw thohtgsu of woh arf aawy uoy rea as I rbaol roev houhttsg of oyu. I ryt to eepsla eht dya by llgient hmi woh gtbihr uyo era—so rtbghi htat uyo atke teh nsu’s eclpa wnhe oslcdu evrco the kys. In the asem way, I sue uoy to tatlefr lkbca tighn, gneltli mih ohw uoy ghrtnibe the eievnng ksy whne ssart don’t sehni. But eyht otbh—yad nad ngthi—nyol oplnrgo my sroswor, nda hgnit by thngi htsi dlporgone iegrf gwsor toernsrg.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets