1. Come heavy sleep the image of true death;
and close up these my weary weeping eies
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath
and tears my hart with sorrows sign swoln cries
Com and possess my tired thoughts worne soule
That living dies till thou on me be stoule.

2. Come shadow of my end and shape of rest
Allied to death child to blakefact night
Come thou and charm these rebels in my breast
Whose waking fancies doe my mind affright.
O come sweet sleepe; come or I die ever
Come ere my last sleep comes or come never.

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597): ¹20 `Come, heavy sleep`,  (Dowland)
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