John Fletcher.

COME, Sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving

    Lock me in delight awhile;

    Let some pleasing dreams beguile

    All my fancies; that from thence

    I may feel an influence

All my powers of care bereaving!

Though but a shadow, but a sliding,

    Let me know some little joy!

    We that suffer long annoy

    Are contented with a thought

    Through an idle fancy wrought:

O let my joys have some abiding!

literature, poetry

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