Come, Heavy Sleep

Come, heavy Sleep, the image of true death
And close up these my weary, weeping eyes
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath
And tears my heart with sorrow-sigh-sworn cries
Come and possess my tired, fold-worn soul
That living dies, that living dies, that living dies
Till thou on me be still
O come, sweet Sleep, come, come, or I die for ever
Come ere my last sleep comes, come ere my last sleep comes
Or come, or come never