Sonnet 27

The Fourth Choir had a composing competition, which I entered. I didn't make their shortlist, so here is my setting of Shakespeare's Sonnet 27. The words, of course: 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...