Sleep.

IN vain, thou drousie God, I thee invoak;
For thou, who dost from fumes arise,
Thou, who Mans Soul dost overshade
With a thick Cloud by Vapours made,
Canst have no power to shut his eyes,
Or passage of his Spi'rits to choak,
Whose flame's so pure, that it sends up no smoak.

Yet how do Tears but from some Vapours rise?
Tears, that bewinter all my Year?
The fate of Egypt I sustain,
And never feel the dew of Rain,
From Clouds which in the Head appear,
But all my too much Moysture ow,
To overflowings of the Heart below.

Thou, who dost Men (as Nights to Colours do)
Bring all to an Equality:
Come, thou just God; and aequal mee
A while to my disdainful Shee;
In that condition let me ly;
Till Love does the same favour shew;
Love aequals all a better way then You.

Then never more shalt thou be'invoakt by me;
Watchful as Spirits, and Gods I'll prove:
Let her but grant, and then will I,
Thee and thy Kinsman Death defy.
For betwixt Thee and them that love,
Never will an agreement bee;
Thou scorn st th'Unhappy; and the Happy, Thee.