Come, heavy sleep - First Booke of Songes, 1597, no20 Lyrics

Come heavy sleepe the image of true death; And close up these my weary weeping eyes: Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath, And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln cries: Come and posses my tired thoughts worn soul, That living dies, till thou on me be stoule. [ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/come-heavy-sleep-first-booke-of-songes-1597-no20-lyrics-sting.html ]
Come shadow of my end, and shape of rest, Allied to death, child to his blackfac'd night: Come thou and charme these rebels in my breast, Whose waking fancies doe my mind affright. O come sweet sleepe; come, or I die for ever: Come ere my last sleepe comes, or come never.