Robert Sidney

Sonnet 19. When other creatures all, each in their kind

When other creatures all, each in their kind,
Comfort of light, quiet from darkness fetch,
Of wretched monsters, I most monstrous wretch
Nor day from pains, nor night with rest can find;

But as a slave, whom storm or sun or wind
All day doth beat, in whose side bloody breach
The scourge doth leave, who on the oar doth stretch
His limbs all day, all night his wounds doth find,

Chained in those beauties whence I cannot fly
I know no day so long, wherein each hour
Shows not new labours lost, and wherein I 
Take not new wounds from their unsparing power:

Nor longest night is long enough for me
To tell my wounds, which restless bleeding be.