Sonnet XXVIII

How can I then return in happy plight,	1
That am debarr'd the benefit of rest?	2
When day's oppression is not eased by night,	3
But day by night, and night by day, oppress'd?	4
And each, though enemies to either's reign,	5
Do in consent shake hands to torture me;	6
The one by toil, the other to complain	7
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.	8
I tell the day, to please them thou art bright	9
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:	10
So flatter I the swart-complexion'd night,	11
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.	12
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer	13
And night doth nightly make grief's strength seem stronger.	14