Album: First Booke Of Songes Or Ayres

Sleep, Wayward Thoughts

Sleep, wayward thoughts, and rest you with my love:
Let not my Love be with my love diseas'd.
Touch not, proud hands, lest you her anger move,
But pine you with my longings long displeas'd.
Thus, while she sleeps, I sorrow for her sake:
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.

But, O the fury of my restless fear !
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires !
The glories and the beauties that appear,
Between her brows, near Cupid's closed fires,
Thus while she sleeps, moves sighing for her sake:
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.

My love doth rage, and yet my Love doth rest:
Fear in my love, and yet my Love secure:
Peace in my Love, and yet my love oppress'd:
Impatient, yet of perfect temperature.
Sleep, dainty Love, while I sigh for thy sake:
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.