Sonnet 37

THus night while sleepe begins, with heauie wings
To close mine eyes, and that my troubled thought
Doth fall to stray, and my chiefe powers are brought
To leaue the scepter of all subiect things,
The first that straight my fancies errour brings
Vnto my minde, is Stellas Image, wrought
By Loues owne selfe, but with so curious draught,
That she mee thinks not onely shines but sings:
I start, looke hart, harke, but what inclos'd vp sence
Was helde, in open view it flyes away,
Leauing me nought but wayling eloquence.
I seeing bitter sights in sighes decay,
Cald it anew, and woed Sleepe againe,
But him her hoast her vnkind guest had slaine.