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 browes near Cupids 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 temp’rature
Sleep, dainty Love, while I sigh for thy sake:
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake