Luyện nghe bài hát Come, heavy sleep - First Booke of Songes, 1597, no20

Come heavy sleepe the image of true
And close up these my weary weeping
spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath,
And tears my hart sorrows sigh swoln cries:
Come and posses my tired worn soul,
That dies, till thou on me be stoule.

Come shadow of my end, and of rest,
Allied to death, child to his blackfac'd
Come thou and charme rebels in my breast,
waking fancies doe my mind affright.
O sweet sleepe; come, or I die for ever:
Come ere my last comes, or come never.