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| Is it thy will, thy image should keep open | 1 |
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| My heavy eyelids to the weary night? |
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| Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken, |
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| While shadows like to thee do mock my sight? |
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| Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee | 5 |
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| So far from home into my deeds to pry, |
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| To find out shames and idle hours in me, |
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| The scope and tenure of thy jealousy? |
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| O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: |
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| It is my love that keeps mine eye awake: | 10 |
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| Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat, |
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| To play the watchman ever for thy sake: |
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 For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere, |
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| From me far off, with others all too near. |
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