"Sonnet 27" by William Shakespeare

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This sonnet describe me with respect to my Helen.

In line 2 the book I'm reading from uses 'travel', but other sources seems to use 'travail'. *shrug*

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey 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.